Chasing the Moon
by Rebellecherry
Summary: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.
1. Intro

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

_Present day_

Jon walked down the hallway at his usual gait, though he was a little concerned about being summoned to headquarters. It was rare that he was summoned to headquarters, typically for a debrief but he'd done the debrief for his last case already and sometimes they were done on sight wherever the case wrapped up.

He knocked on the door, and was issued a quiet come in, he rolled his neck before opening the door. He strode inside to find his diminutive superior there gone were the power suits that typically covered her small frame she was wearing jeans and band tee shirt that probably fit a small child.

"Ah, there you are Mr. Good," she said, "how was the flight?"

"Coulda done without it," he shrugged.

"My apologies," she said, "but this is matter of extreme urgency. You have heard about the fall of McMahon industries?"

"Yeah," he responded.

"McMahon was set up," she explained, "he pointed us right in the direction of one of the senior partners, Paul Heyman. It's fortunate that he's in jail, its limited the attempts on his life. Heyman and McMahon's estranged wife are doing all they can to keep McMahon and his lover from talking, we've gathered the evidence it's enough to convict half the company. We've just got to keep McMahon's lover safe until trial."

"I don't do baby-sitting jobs," Jon responded, "Cartels, gun smuggling rings, that's my kind of thing."

"I don't care what your thing is," she said, "you do what I tell you to do. Right now, we're going to check on our new charge. He's had quite the trying day. There was an explosion at the condo he's been sharing with McMahon, it went up in flames. We're hoping that whoever set the bomb thinks like the rest of the world that he died in the explosion."

"Where are we going to have to go?" Jon is annoyed that he's going to have to set up shop somewhere new and all he was going to have to do is keep a privileged little sugar boy alive until the case goes to trial they'd probably be somewhere lame and Jon would be bored out of his mind.

"Don't look like I kicked your puppy," she said.

"I'm just wondering why you couldn't get Rhodes for this gig," he said.

"Brandi is on desk duty for a while," she said.

"What?" Jon said, "she lives for this witness protection shit."

"She's pregnant," she told him, "besides this case is going to need a bit of special handling. He's not gonna feel like he's protected with just two chicks. We're gonna need you. You'll like where we're going."

"Mendez, I don't care where we're going," Jon said, "I just want it over with."

"If we quit talking and get to walking then it will be," Mendez said pulling open the door he'd shut behind him and walking out of it.

"I had Joe pack some things for you," Mendez stated, "he had them shipped here."

Jon nodded though he was certain that Colby, his best friend Joe's lover had packed the things. He was living in the studio apartment above their garage in Seattle, Jon liked the West Coast, but he couldn't go back to California there were too many memories to haunt him there so he enjoyed the wet dreary Seattle weather.

He followed Mendez down the long hallway to another door, the doctor was inside, talking to a man with close cropped brown hair, who was wrapped in a blanket and Jon couldn't see his face very well. The news was on, they were showing footage of the explosion.

"It has been confirmed at this time, there were no survivors in the explosion," the news lady was saying.

"So, that's it…" Jon knew that voice and he knew it well he froze, "everyone is gonna think I'm dead?"

"Well, it's either that or really be dead," Mendez said crossing her arms, "and I mean really most sincerely dead. You take your pick."

"Vince knows I'm okay right?" he asked, "I don't want him to off himself thinking I'm gone and there isn't any hope for him getting out."

"He knows," Mendez said, "I didn't lie to you when I said we were going to make this happen."

He shrugged the blanket off and finally looked past the doctor and Mendez to see Jon. He met those beautiful green eyes again, the were still the same though they had more lines around them, and he looked paler and leaner than the last time Jon had seen him, he was still Punk.

"Do you two know each other?" Dr. Sampson asked.

"No!" Mendez said, "no they don't. If you're done checking him over, the three of us have some things we need to go over."

Dr. Sampson gave Mendez a look but she just smiled her creepy little doll smile at him and he blinked and shook his head before walking away

"April!" Punk called, "Why didn't you tell me, you were bringing him in?" Punk asked.

So April was her real name and Jon was sure she was loathed that he'd find out such a thing.

She shrugged, "Wanted it to be a surprise, given your history with him and all. You're leaving behind everything. Why not give you back something you thought you'd lost long before this."

"I moved on since then," Punk said.

"Clearly," Mendez said crossing her arms over her chest.

"How do you two know each other?"

"I married Trish's little sister Celeste," Mendez said, "We met when Punk was still dancing and Celeste was tending bar. We became best friends."

"You let him live after calling you by your first name," Jon smirked.

"That's a privilege reserved for friends," she said, "though you haven't earned the right to use April, yet, you can call me AJ, since you are going to come into hiding with us, and you're not going to bitch anymore, I think I at least owe you that."

"Are you going to stop calling me Mr. Good?"

"I'm actually going to call you Dean Ambrose," she said reaching into her bag and chucking a passport and license baring that name, it was exactly like his own driver's license and passport, same picture, same details except the name and address.

"I like it," Punk said meeting Jon's eyes, "it suits you. What about me? I want to be Seymour Buttz?"

"I'm sure you would," she said, handing him an ID and passport.

"You think you're so fucking clever," Punk threw them back at her after reading his new name.

"Thought it was pretty fitting," she said.

"You've got on here that I'm from Meridian Mississippi?"

"Yeah so what you can talk just like that cowboy guy that always came to the club?" she asked.

"It's a different dialect," Punk said.

"We'll work on it later, right now we've got to get on a jet, and fly to our destination," she said.

"You're not going tell us where we're going?" Jon asked.

"Nope," she smirked.


	2. Chapter One

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

_5 Years Earlier_

The music seemed to call to him from outside the building. He didn't drive, he glanced around there were a few guys outside, younger drunk and obviously into the scene. Skinny jeans skin tight tees they spoke in a way that let him know exactly what persuasion they were.

He'd never been boastful about his sexuality, he'd always kept it hidden, it'd always been cause for negative attention. He doubted anyone at work would give two fucks about it, it was San Francisco after all and his captain was openly gay. He just couldn't help what had been ingrained in him since his mother woke up from one of her benders and caught him kissing a guy from up the street. She'd run to her boyfriend who'd beaten him with in an inch of his life.

He hadn't dated since he could remember, and he'd never been the dating type. He couldn't remember the last time he'd made love to anything other than his fist. This was the whole point of this whole exercise was to well to get out. That and maybe to get a little more for his spank bank, those pretty little moany twinks on the broadband weren't cutting it he needed something live and in person. He was meeting up with his friend Joe from work and going to the club where his boyfriend worked.

As if on cue, a big Samoan walked up with his boyfriend tucked under his arm, no doubt the pretty two toned haired man complaining about having to go to work on his night off. But he wasn't about to let Joe go in there without him. Joe was easily one of the most handsome guy on the force. Jon was a bit jealous at the attention he garnered at the office with his bulging muscles and long black hair and his gray eyes. Jon eventually came to see it as an advantage, while everyone was swooning over Joe he could get done with needed to be done.

"Sorry we're late," Joe apologized, "couldn't find a place to park."

"It's fine I was early took Bart, got a bite then walked up from the restaurant," Jon explained.

"Jon, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend Colby," Joe said.

"Nice to meet you," Jon said.

Colby didn't make eye contact he nodded his head and turned his attention to Joe, "Can we go inside? I can get us in with no cover so long as we make it before eleven, and it's ten minutes till."

"Sure babe," Joe pulled the smaller man closer.

Jon sighed, he longed to have someone to hold close, not specifically yearning for a relationship he just wanted that closeness without being tied down, being in a new city it was hard to meet people when he was in police car most of trapped behind the desk the other portion of the time.

Jon sighed, he'd never really dated before, the closest he'd come was the friends with benefits thing he had with his old desk partner in Cincinnati the only man Jon had met that was so far in the closet he'd been getting cobwebs, the man had been too focused on making sure no one found out that the relationship crumbled.

"Let's go check out some guys what do you say rookie?" Joe cocked a smile at Jon and they made their way inside the building.

Colby had wiggled out from under Joe's arm and was speaking softly to the blonde beast of a bouncer.

"What are you doing here I thought you had the night off," the bouncer said.

"I do but, Joe wanted to show his friend from work a good time," Colby said, "no way I was letting him come here without me not with all those thirsty tricks in the back."

The bouncer guffawed pushing his longish blond hair out of the way he stepped aside for them to enter, "Have fun and don't let any of those thirsty tricks near your man and have fun Sethie."

"Thanks, Diesel," Colby said stalking ahead of them a little swivel in his perfect hips, which Jon was certain made up for a lot of his more abrasive personality traits and that round ass didn't hurt.

Jon was confused but Colby was sure to clarify, "Nobody here knows my government name except Adam and Trish the owners because they sign my checks, and I'd like it to stay that way."

They made their way to the bar where a big guy with a beaming smile was standing. He was handsome in an unassuming way, full lips, long eyelashes dark hair hidden by a beat up ball cap, his facial hair was neatly groomed. His overall countenance was too much big goofy straight guy than friendly gay guy. He was a top at best and Jon _didn't _bottom.

A commotion distracted the easily distracted Jon. A small dancer was on stage and one of the older men at the table in the front was hassling him, Jon nearly stepped in on instinct but a large African American bouncer stepped in and took the dancer backstage with him while Diesel and another bouncer escorted the man out despite the others at his table protesting.

"What will you have Handsome?" the bartender asked in the silky baritone of his mid-western accent.

"Oh, Cabana don't start your shit, you don't like dick," Colby said waving his hand.

"Seriously, Colt, this is my friend Jon from work," Joe said, "don't play gay with him unless you're going throw him a bone."

"I might be down to experiment your friend is hot," Cabana shrugged.

"You'll keep your experiments to yourself," Colby told him, "he's new in town and who knows when the last time he's gotten laid. I want him to see some of the talent the city has to offer, not the unwashed straight guys."

"Hey, it's not my fault I'm straight I was born that way," Cabana said in mock indignation, "Could set him up with Punk he needs to date more."

"Sure," Colby said, "I want a Starstuck, gimme real Goose, not that fucking cheap shit you like to pawn off on the other guys in the back, remember it's my night off and I'm a paying customer."

"Take a chill pill Ice Queen, I know the consequences for not giving you top shelf," Cabana said, "You act like I'm amateur, I'm on my shit like Tom Cruise in Cocktail."

"I'll have a beer," Jon said getting bored already, his eyes darting to the stage.

"Give me the same," Joe said.

Cabana gave them two Coronas, Jon took his, and decided to go ahead and start a tab.

"You getting all three?"

"Sure why not," Jon said.

"You are not," Joe argued.

"If the doof wants to pay let him buy this round," Colby said, "it's eleven fifteen Punk's up I'm getting a good seat for this, bring me my drink and don't fuck it up Cabana."

Colby stalked away to any empty table in the front.

"Is the sex so good you put up with that shit willingly?" Jon asked.

"He can be really sweet," Joe said, "he's not good with new people and he hates coming here on his days off."

"Damn so it's all me, the attitude tonight?" Jon asked as they walked toward the table..

"No, I think he thinks you're cool people," Joe said, "he did call Cabana out for trying to flirt with you."

"I could totally tell he was straight," Jon smirked, "Best gaydar in Ohio."

They'd barely grabbed seats at the table Colby had chosen before music started and the lights lowered. It was an indy track he didn't recognize but the throb of the bass was catchy.

A lone figure appeared on stage. The spotlight descended on the figure, and Jon could see a bit more clearly, his heart pounded when he met those eyes, the light did nothing to help him discern the color, they were green or maybe brown kohl rimmed, and stood out with the Batman mask and eye shadow, without which the Batman costume would have been kind of pointless. Jon was floored by that gaze, the man didn't break it a smirk appeared on his face as he started to move, and Jon's eyes slipped down to his hips and started taking his lean body covered in tight spandex leaving Jon to wonder how he was actually going to get it off.

Punk slid over to the edge of the stage conveniently near their table, and on the side where Jon was sitting. The costume was comprised of two pieces apparently he slid the top over his head revealing his tight toned body and the considerable ink that covered it. Silver nipple rings glittered from the stage, and Jon wanted to tug on them with his teeth, he was also particularly fond the Straight Edge rocker on his stomach, he wanted to taste every letter, and he was close enough to touch instead though Jon forked over a crumpled fistful of ones and tens, and got himself a smile in response. Punk was gone over to the other side of the stage where the old men were, one tried to grab him this one a fat balding man who was trying to hold on to long ponytail that Jon thought had to be velcroed on to his head.

Punk shoved the man away, and went back to dancing doing moves that showed off his flexibility then the pants were gone and he was left in a skimpy yellow thong and boots bearing the Batman logo. The lights went down and the music changed and Jon had to compose himself and pretend he'd not been affected by the dance or Punk's gloriously round posterior.

"He's awesome isn't he?" Colby said, "And that was a tame performance, he's one of the guys that inspired me to get into the business. I used to be a gymnast, fucked up my ankle on a landing couldn't find anything that made me feel close to it except this."

Cabana brought Colby his drink.

"Took you long enough, bitch," Colby said taking and sipping carefully through the straw.

Cabana ignored him, "What did you think? He's my best friend I could get you a private dance if you wanted."

"He was hot," Jon said, "lemme think about it."

Cabana nodded and pulled a face and went over to the old men's table.

"You should totally get a dance from Punk," Colby said.

Joe shrugged, "Up to you man. Though the dances in the VIP area are gonna run you 400 but you get like four dances and there's free drinks, and you might be able to talk to him. The booths are semi private, there usually another guy and a dancer there and it's like in these veiled stalls and it's 50 for a dance."

Jon nodded this was mostly supposed to be an adventurous first step, seek and destroy, he wasn't prepared to be completely alone with Punk he'd go for a dance in the booth he tried to muster some courage but couldn't in the end three dances, and four beers later one from a big guy named Skip Sheffield that turned his stomach he gave in and went to the bar and told Cabana he wanted a dance with Punk in the booth.

Cabana grinned, "Can I interest you in something a little more private?"

"I'm good," Jon whispered blushing a bit being alone with Punk would eithe lead to him making an ass out of himself or fucking the Straight Edge stripper senseless there was no bones about it.

Cabana waved over the large bouncer who'd collected the smallest dancer from the stage after he was groped by the old man.

"He wants Punk for a dance in the booth," Cabana told him.

"I want two dances actually," Jon said, "Can you charge my card?"

"Of course," Cabana said.

The bouncer came over.

"Big E, can you take him to the booth room, and get Punk, tell him he's got two dances with the guy at table two by the stage, one of Seth's boyfriend's friends."

E nodded and led Jon through the club. The throb of the bass seemed even louder in the back. It was dark with neon lights and semi private booths decked out in leather with sheer curtains, E directed him to one in the back with a sheer blue curtain. He sat down on the soft leather and waited.

There were other dances going on the room the small dancer that E had carried out when they'd first arrived was giving one of the young guys Jon had seen out front a lap dance there was a bleached blonde dancer giving a pale ginger haired man a lap dance.

"I was hoping it would be you," Punk appeared in front of him wearing black Speedos with a row of black stars on them and matching boots and nothing else the snarky tone and his Midwest accent so much like Cabana's struck him immediately.

He brought their hips together and let his arms rest looped around Jon's shoulders other than straddling Jon's thighs that was the only place their bodies touched.

"So you've been thinking about me already," Jon smirked right back at him.

"You're easily the more interesting of the bunch more interesting than the corporate douches at the other front table, or the hipsters in the back," Punk said snapping his hips to the beat of the song.

"You think so?" Jon remarked.

"Yep," Punk said, "one thing though I'd like to know."

"Yeah," Jon said.

Punk leaned close to whisper everything about him invading Jon's senses, his smell the way his body fit along Jon's, "Did you pop wood for me when I danced?"

"Yes," Jon admitted, "Though Sheffield made it all go away."

"You poor thing," Punk said grinding down on Jon's lap for the first time, "We'll find a way to bring it back."

"That'll surely do it," Jon said.

"You got a name?" Punk asked moving Jon's hands from hovering at his hips to cup the curve of his ass desperately trying not to touch Punk he didn't know the rules.

"Jon," he said swallowing hard Punk did something with his hips that was bring friction down on his groin.

"I'm Punk," he said, "now that we've been introduced, I guess it's okay if you put your hands on my ass."

Maintaining eye contact during that dance was hard, Punk had washed away most of the shadow from his eyes but they were still kohl rimmed and dramatically green and Jon was sucked in by them. They had so much soul and they were haunted. He'd never forget those eyes. Punk moved on Jon's lap this time facing away from him sliding across Jon's lap that way his attention was on that ass. He was close again and Jon leaned forward smelling his hair, Punk turned again quickly the jet black strands falling into his face. Jon liked the long hair he wanted to touch him but he didn't know the rules.

"You can touch me if you want," Punk said, "we just gotta keep it tame, this is public venue in a classy establishment."

Jon did touch him then trailing his fingers up the side of Punk's neck skimming across his face then threading through his silky hair. Punk met his gaze and their was such heat in it. Punk stilled on his lap. Jon kept one hand carding through Punk's hair the other arm locked around his waist holding him in place the fingers stroking his hip.

Jon wasn't sure how long they sat like that but Big E was calling Punk away and Jon had to reluctantly let go for fear of bodily harm. Jon couldn't get himself together after the encounter he ended up texting Joe telling him he was heading and out thanks for the good time he snuck out the back shaken to the core by how much he'd felt when he was with Punk in that booth. He wanted to run, he'd never felt anything remotely like that he was terrified.

This had been a seek and destroy mission. He was to scout the local talent, get a phone number maybe enjoy a fuck but at best find a new fantasy, with Punk he had that and more. He ended up walking home in record time. He took a cold shower, to fight away his erection he couldn't stop thinking of those green eyes and that ass, he ended up curling his hand around his unrelenting erection. He thought about the things he would do if he could touch Punk like he wanted if he could hold him the way he was needing to. He imagined smoothing his hands down Punk's sides, feeling the softness he found there. Then he moved his hands up to Punk's chest pulling on the sliver rings, the sounds he imagined Punk making were turning him on beyond belief. He imagined cupping that firm ass as he thrusted into the lithe body on his lap. He imagined fucking Punk on sight during that second dance, unhooking his jeans, sliding those Speedos aside and just taking him.

Thinking about Punk clenching around him like a tight vise had him coming into his fist abruptly. When he came back to himself he was shivering against the tile wall under the cold spray. Well, he'd accomplished what he'd set out to do, get new material for his self love sessions. But Punk's gaze had promised more than just a decent fantasy and as much as it terrified him Jon was desperate to know more, to get closer whatever it was that gaze promised.


	3. Chapter Two

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

Punk looked for Jon at his next dance. He did a more racy routine than he'd done before, showcasing his flexibility and his twerking skills, being able to move his cheeks independently of the other something he'd learned got the crowd hype, after all every dancer at the club wasn't offered four dance spots on the big stage most of them were grinding their ass off for the lap dances in the booth. He'd bring in at least two or three grand a night from the stage alone. Rarely did he grant booth dances. He made a grand in VIP dances a night. It was more than enough to keep him off the streets and up to his elbows in new comic books.

Punk was grateful for his job and he was good at it, he was by and far the best stripper in club. He was proud to be able to support himself and help pay back Colt, he didn't have to live under the thumb of some asshole anymore let himself get beaten to a pulp just for place to stay. He'd been about twenty four when he'd first come out here penniless running from a psychopath who was more afraid of air travel than he was interested in reclaiming Punk as his property. Colt had come to San Francisco for school he'd gone to college for four years changed his major a million times and gotten a degree in film production, and ended up becoming a mechanic, and a bartender.

Once his dance and his two VIP sessions one with the greasy fat corporate douche with the ponytail, who had actually came in his pants at the feel of Punk on his lap cutting the session short, which was a win for Punk having a balding man tug on his nipple rings while he dry humped him with thoughts of a wild haired man named Jon running through his head wasn't his idea of fun.

He had the final dance of the night at four fifteen, just after the college boys had trickled in. Seth and his boyfriend had stayed longer than Punk had expected, Cabana was keeping the drinks coming and Punk knew well enough that Seth was all about top shelf liquor as long as it was coming someone else was paying.

Seth came back to Punk's dressing room at closing, he'd managed to wash away some of the sweat from his body and change into something that was not a g-string or a Speedo. He still had his eyeliner on and he liked it, a hell of a lot better than the body glitter.

"So what did you think of Jon?" Seth asked he had hopped up on the vanity table in front of Punk, beside a row of eyeliner pencils.

"He was intense," Punk said, "Did he take off for the night?"

"Yep, said he had an early morning," Seth said, "What happened?"

"It was intense," Punk said noncommittally, "he was hot and he wasn't boring, it'd be a nice break from users and assholes, red haired bad girls and pretty boy polygamists."

"He's a top," Seth reported that drunken smirk on his face.

"You know that doesn't matter to me much," Punk shrugged, versatility in the bedroom and outside of it was one of his many gifts.

"Me being a bottom stopped us from having a fling," Seth shrugged.

"Do you know how long it's been since I've been fucked the right way?" Punk asked, "I don't fuck co-workers, and I don't have causal sex, that's what's stopped us from having a fling."

"Fucked the right way?"

"I was with just Amy for six months, and then after that ended I've had no other action that my right hand," Punk pointed out.

"I never understood that whole thing," Seth said, "You're gay."

"I was in love with her," Punk said, "it shouldn't have mattered what kind of genitals she had."

"It _does_," Seth said shaking his head, "That's what being gay means."

Punk sighed, "You don't get it."

"It makes my head hurt to think about yummying down lady parts," Seth said making a face, "do you want his number?"

"Whose number?"

"Jon, the man we've been talking about this whole time, duh," Seth said.

"I don't need his number," Punk said, "he'll be back."

"How do you know that?"

"When I danced for him, he looked like he wanted to devour me," Punk said, "it's safe to say he'll be back. I don't know what'll come of it, but he'll be back."

Seth gave him a sleepy grin and hopped off the counter, "I gotta get back to my man those thirsty tricks are probably covering him like ants, I told Cabana to protect him but your boy is a few fries short of a Happy Meal."

He got accepted to three Ivy League Colleges based on his test scores alone, I think he he's alright," Punk shrugged.

"He might be SAT wonder boy but face it your buddy has no common sense," Seth said.

"I'll cop to that," Punk said, "you'd better go Ziggler is probably going down on your man, while Cabana is closing the bar down oblivious to everything."

Punk laughed as Seth scrambled out of the room, it was proven that Ziggler was very interested in his boyfriend Joe. Joe was easily the most handsome man in any room he walked in, and he didn't even know it. Punk wasn't into the pretty ones he liked them rough around the edges, and he liked them to be a little bit crazy.

Which was what made Jon so intriguing. He was an unknown. Punk was crazy about variables.

In a weeks time he was proven to be right, Jon had returned to the club, he wasn't surprised he'd been summoned for several booth dances with Jon. Typically booth dances weren't his thing. He considered them beneath him he'd been working a the club for four years now and he was quite a top draw at this point. He booked a considerable amount of VIP dances which yielded quite the commission. The club took the majority of the money from the booth and VIP dances, but every cent earned on the stage was the dancer's to keep. VIP dances yielded half the fee, which made them worth Punk's while.

Since Jon had bought several dances he simply switched them to VIP Suite dances. He wanted more time with Jon. He wanted to talk with him, preferably alone without the sweaty grind of the booth room. Punk spent a few minutes after his first dance getting cleaned up and setting the room up the way he wanted it low lights, drinks on the coffee table a long way away from the bed. He decided to ignore the bed, he didn't want to think about hook ups that could happen in this room. The hook ups he knew had happened in that room, Trish kept condoms and lube on hand just in case the dances got a bit more intimate.

He did his best to further ignore the blinking red light in the corner of the room. Should a hook up occur, no money could be exchanged for the dances as the encounter would be pretty close to prostitution. Honestly, Punk had never considered a backroom hook up before, not just because he was Straight Edge he was also a professional.

Punk slid the fruit tray to the left then the right he looked at the angles again, then sighed just as the door was opening, he didn't have to turn to know that it was Big E and Jon.

Big E took his leave quickly the door clicking shut. The VIP dances were unaccompanied by security the camera in the corner of the room was all the security that was needed, someone was viewing the feed at all times. Probably Trish, sometimes Adam, and occasionally Amy. Which had never felt awkward to Punk until this moment, he'd never been remotely interested in anyone he'd ever met back here. But Jon was different there was chemistry between them something Punk hadn't felt before. He'd been deeply in love with both Amy and Adam and attracted to both, but it was nothing like this. Jon's mere presence made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, Punk wanted to turn and look at him but was unable.

"Couldn't stop thinking about you," he whispered roughly in Punk's ear in way of greeting his hands gripping his hips.

"Not enough to spring for the VIP experience," Punk snarked in response turning in his arms and letting his hips collide with Jon's.

"You've no idea the kind of thoughts I've been thinking, alone with you sir is dangerous," Jon smiled.

"I don't bite unless I'm asked nicely," Punk smirked, leaning forward as if he were going to meet Jon's lips in a kiss, Jon leaned in a little bit and turned away.

"Not dangerous for me," Jon said.

"You're not going to hurt me are you?" Punk couldn't help but smirk the inflection in his voice portrayed a viable amount of fear and concern.

"I'd never hurt you," Jon pressed closer his lips back to Punk's ear.

Punk moved around Jon and pushed him back onto the couch if he didn't start dancing soon things would suspicious.

"Dangerous how, then if you don't intend to hurt me?"

"I don't intend to hurt you," Jon said, "but sometimes people do get hurt, emotions are involved, yada yada…"

"What are we doing?" Punk asked.

"I'm getting a lap dance without music," Jon pointed out.

"Right," Punk said feeling around on the sofa for the stereo remote and starting the music, "I know you know what I'm talking about."

"I know what you're talking about," Jon said, "I don't know what we're doing, but I know I like it."

Punk smiled, "Why did you run that night?"

"That's what I do when I'm feeling to much at once," Jon whispered, "it was supposed to be seek and destroy refill the spank bank."

"And, did you get some good material?" Punk said softly.

"Thinking of you was pleasant change," Jon said.

"From what?" Punk asked the movement of his hips was almost deceptive it was so subtle.

"From the internet," Jon said simply.

"No lover in your bed?" Punk asked.

"I just moved to town," Jon replied his hands moving up the length of Punk's bare back making him shiver, "I don't really take lovers to bed."

"Do you take them against a wall? The backseat of your car? Or do you fuck them on the sofa?"

Jon smiled, "I don't own a car. The other two are decent options. But it's been a long time since I've done either."

"I don't sleep around either," Punk said, "all part of the Straight Edge lifestyle."

"Sex should be meaningful," after a pause he added.

"It should," Jon agreed.

"Is that why you've shied away from it for so long?" Punk asked.

"People come with baggage, and I have my own," Jon said, "things get messy, feelings get involved."

"Messy is so much fun," Punk replied rocking his hips to the beat.

"Messy is dangerous," Jon said.

"Why are you so afraid to get to involved?" Punk said.

"I am terrified," Jon said, "I've never wanted to before."

Punk smiled, "You do now?"

"Yes," Jon whispered his hands sliding back down to his bottom, "How about we say what we really mean? I'd like to get to know you better."

"I'd like to get messy with you too," Punk said sliding off Jon's lap, "Want a drink?"

"I'll have water," Jon replied.

"We have other options," Punk smiled, "Just because I don't drink doesn't mean you can't."

"You might let me kiss you goodnight," Jon smirked, "I don't want to taste like a booze hound."

"You know I'd like a kiss goodnight," Punk said and passed Jon a bottle of water and took one for himself, "though it would be nicer to share a first kiss after a date rather than a lap dance."

"What time is closing?"

"Four thirty," Punk replied, "I have a dance at four fifteen, as always."

"Well, would you like to go out after we can grab breakfast and have it on the beach and watch the sunrise?" Jon asked.

"I'd love that," Punk said, "I have the night off tomorrow so heading to bed isn't a priority."

"So that means I can keep you all day?" Jon asked.

"If you wanted," Punk said reaching for a strawberry and taking a bite, Jon's eyes were on his mouth, the response he wanted.

"I might have trouble giving you back," Jon smirked.

"You'll get tired of me eventually," Punk told him.

"I don't think so," Jon said, "how long do we have in this fancy suite?"

"About an hour," Punk said, "we can eat, drink, and play."

"I think the games I want to play with you are a little less family friendly," Jon replied.

* * *

><p>Jon thought that he'd seen no sexier sight than Punk on the stage in his element, but the way he ate fruit was particularly arousing. He couldn't believe he'd paid that much money to watch a half naked man eat fruit.<p>

Punk had made it more than clear that casual sex wasn't on the menu even though both of them were in the moment, hard and all over each other talking in innuendo. Jon wanted to take that step with Punk but he didn't want it to be like his other conquest, where he gave a good chase and then when he had them the thrill was gone, one of the many reasons he shied away from hook ups and casual encounters, and maybe the reason he was walking into something more with Punk. Something so scarily close to a relationship. Jon wanted whatever Punk would give him. If Punk wanted a date that's what he'd have.

"How long have you worked here?"

"Almost five years," Punk said, "This isn't something I do."

"Make small talk with a customer instead of giving him a rock 'em sock 'em dance?" Jon asked teasingly.

"Well, if you want me to dance for you I will," Punk said, "I just don't want the other half of our evening soaked in sexual tension, or to having to jack off in my dressing room it's no fun dancing with a boner."

"You'd get twice the tips if you did," Jon joked.

"I'm sure," Punk said.

Jon took a grape, "So where are you from?"

"Chicago," Punk said, "What about you?"

"Cincinnati," Jon smiled.

"We're both along way from home," Punk said, "how did you end up here?"

"Too long a story for tonight," Jon said steering the conversation back to neutral ground those green eyes were telling him to bare his soul, "what about you?"

"Again too long a story for tonight," Punk smiled.

"I have trouble opening up," Jon said, "typically, I want to tell you but what will we talk about on our date if I spill the beans?"

"We'll have plenty to talk about," Punk replied a bright smile on his face.

Jon picked another grape off the fruit tray.

"Did you always want to be a cop?"

"It was either protect the streets I grew up on or run them," Jon replied, "what did you want to be when you grew up?"

"I wanted to be an actor," he said softly as he looked away.

Jon could tell there was pain there that there was a story to be unearthed.

"Clearly, it didn't pan out," he said a moment later meeting his gaze again.

"You still could," Jon said.

"I can't go back there again," Punk said.

"We can talk about it if you wanted," Jon offered, "I've been told I'm a good listener."

"I don't want to burden you with my tales of failure," Punk said.

"It wouldn't be a burden," Jon said.

"Someday," Punk said.

Jon didn't think that evasive response would warm him inside. But the thought of there being a someday with Punk made him feel in a way he hadn't in years maybe ever.

Before long Big E was back at the door, Jon let Langston lead him back to the front of the club, he spent his time by the bar ignoring the dances bantering with Cabana. Then having an odd conversation with Colby when he came out to snipe at Cabana and get himself a Starstruck.

"How'd it go with Punk in the VIP?" Colby asked leaning on the counter he was decked out in a black jumpsuit that Jon assumed was a ninja costume, he had a prop Katana blade sheathed and strapped to his back.

"Did he finally set aside his morals and let you give him the relentless pounding he's in desperate need of?" Cabana asked.

"That's nobody's business but mine and Punk's," Jon was angry, "Relentless pounding? Where in the hell did you come up with that?"

"I've been reading gay romance novels," Cabana shrugged, "don't judge me."

"But you're not gay," Colby said.

"Why should you get to have all the fun?" Cabana said, "all the straight romance novels are all girly, and blah."

Colby shook his head and turned back to Jon.

"We talked," Jon said answering the question Colby had asked minutes ago and reminded him of with an eyebrow raise, "made plans for breakfast when he gets done with his shift."

"Breakfast? Are we working our way down from dinner?"

"I couldn't wait till tomorrow night to see him again," Jon said, "I could have spent my whole paycheck on lap dances, but I want time with him that I didn't pay for."

"I like that line," Colby said with a smile, "the cop's got game."

"It's not a line," Jon said, "this isn't a game to me."

"I believe you, there are a lot easier guys around here. Punk is harder to get into that Fort Knox," Colby said, "Shit they're playing my intro, five minutes early."

"It is your time slot," Cabana said pointing at the clock on the wall.

"My watch is busted," Colby said glancing at his time piece, "should have sprung for Cartier instead of Crappa."

He downed his drink and then ran for the stage flipping onto it.

"I was serious when I said that Punk needed to get laid," Cabana said, "I'm more than willing to let you facilitate that but if you lead him on and hurt him, I'm definitely going to jail."

"Not gonna hurt him," Jon said, "I wanna see where this goes between us. I know that I could have great sex with him. What if I want more? What if he's not gonna just take the fuck buddy card?"

"Fine," Cabana said, "but I'll fuck you up if you hurt him."

"I would expect nothing less," Jon said, "I would have done the same for my best friend."

"Why the past tense?" Cabana asked ignoring the bass that accompanied Colby's dance.

"Because he's dead," Jon replied

"Oh shit man, I'm sorry," Cabana said.

"I'm good," Jon said, "I just wanted you to know that I get where you're coming from."

"I'm sorry," Cabana said, "I don't know what I'd do if I lost my Punkers."

"I get by," Jon shrugged he didn't want to think about the void in his life left by the loss of his friend.

Jon cut himself off after the death of his childhood friend, he never got close to anyone. There was a clear wall between him and Joe despite the fact that the Samoan was trying to be his friend. Trying to include him in baseball games with his huge family. He was opening himself up a little at a time accepting the invitation to come to the club with Joe was the first step.

"Well, on the Brightside that was Sethie's second dance," Cabana said, "two more dances and one hour till Punk's dance at closing."

"Can I get a cola?" Jon asked.

"Sure," Cabana said.

Colby's dance ended and a couple techno tracks played sans dance accompaniment. Jon sipped his soda and turned his attention to the stage the small dancer who'd been carried off was up next, he danced to an exciting rock track that seemed to have the crowd going.

Two songs played without dance complement then, the big guy Sheffield was up again and Jon turned all his attention back to Cabana.

"Not a fan?" Cabana asked.

"Not in the slightest," Jon said simply, "Not my type."

"And dumb as a box of rocks," Cabana said, "I flirted with him one time. He still won't let it go."

"You've got to stop flirting with the guys if you've got no plans on giving it up," Jon laughed reaching for the ashtray on the bar and sliding it closer, "I'm dying for a smoke, I know it's not Punk's thing and I haven't since before I got here."

"Good boy, but he survives the smoke up here, he'll survive you taking a puff," Cabana said, "just so long as you're respectful about it."

"Always," Jon smirked lighting his Marlboro Red.

Jon glanced at his watch and sat through a dance from the bleached blonde guy he'd seen in the booth. The guy was okay, light years better than Sheffield but no where near the level of Punk. By Jon's estimation there would be two or three more song before Punk's last dance.

Cabana was trying to settle a tab with a drunk costumer. The large pale red haired man from the booth.

"Sir, your card was declined to you have any other form of payment?" Cabana asked.

The man shoved another credit card at him, "Put it on this one."

"Platinum, nice," Cabana took the card and slid it.

"This one was approved," Cabana handed the man the receipt to sign, "You need me to call you a cab?"

"I can drive," the man said his Irish accent heavier with every word he turned to Jon, "you seen my keys Fella?"

"Since you can't find them all the more reason to call a cab," Jon responded.

"You're right…" the man said.

"Are you going to wait for Dolph?" Cabana asked

"We fought," the man responded.

"I'm sorry Stephen," Cabana said.

"It's good Fella," Stephen said, "he was takin' me ta tha cleaners."

"That sucks man," Cabana said, "better you find out before things got serious."

Cabana called the man a cab when it arrived he left just as the lights were lowered for Punk's dance it was another song Jon had never heard before, but he couldn't remember the last time he'd bought an album or listened to the radio. He was captivated, once the spotlight set on Punk he started to move. He was beautiful up on that stage, it was a slower song to see him dance to it stirred Jon in a way that nothing had in years. He watched with rapt attention as Punk moved around the stage showcasing his flexibility, it was too intimate, though it was less provocative than the first dance he'd seen Punk do. He seemed so vulnerable, as he removed his costume Jon could tell he had some sort of connection to this song.

When it was over he collected his tips and his clothing and went to the back. Jon was suddenly nervous. His date with Punk was minutes away.

"You ain't gotta go but you gotta get the hell out of here," Cabana called out to the patrons some of which were still looking toward the stage for a glimpse of Punk.

Big E, Diesel and another bouncer that Jon had never seen were herding the drunk men out Big E looked to Jon.

"He's with me," Cabana winked at Big E who shook his head and walked away.

"What a night boys," a big breasted blond sauntered through the bar her pink extremely tight leather pants that had to be painted on she headed straight for the cash register and opened the till while Cabana watched her more than he washed glasses.

"Who's your friend Cabana?" she asked cashing out the till and starting to count it.

"Actually he's better friends with Punk," Cabana smirked, "he's a friend of Seth's boyfriend."

"Another cop?" she sighed, "well at least you're not here to shut me down so I can count my blessings."

"I'm just here for a dance," Jon said.

"I'm always glad for repeat business," she said, "you can call me Trish, this is my place I built it with my brother from the ground up."

"It's a nice place," Jon said.

"Thanks," she said, "You got a name?"

"Jon," he said.

"Nice to meet you," Trish said, "if you're a friend of Punk's then you're a friend of mine."

"Jon," Punk's voice sounded from behind him, "you ready to get out of here?"

"Yeah sure," Jon said.

"Have fun, tonight, Punk," Trish called, "and Jon, don't be a stranger."

Jon turned to find Punk dressed in more than he'd ever saw him wear. He was in a pair of tight cut off jeans with suited the unseasonable weather and showed off his beautiful legs, and he was wearing a white tee shirt that was neither loose nor tight wet hair hidden under a beanie.

"You look…" was all Jon could say.

"Like a hot mess," was Punk's response reaching for Jon's hand and pulling him toward the exit.

"You look beautiful," Jon whispered once they were outside.

"I should probably tell you something," Punk said striding away quickly forcing Jon to keep up with him finally stopped when they were in the parking lot, "because Trish undoubtedly will."

"Tell me what?" Jon said, "if it's anything about your past that isn't illegal or starts with the phrase I was once a woman I don't need to hear it. Everything in our pasts is past. Not something to be discussed at this moment. I want to revel in knowing you. I want to worry over if should I steal a kiss."

"Jon…I really should…tell you…" Punk said.

"You should tell me what kind of pancakes you like because I'm starved and IHOP is just a few blocks away.

"You seriously don't want to know about my past?"

"I do but it's not because of why you think," Jon said, "I want you tell me everything about you but I want you to do that on your terms not because you're afraid of someone else telling me about you."

"I just don't want you to disappear from my life because of this information," Punk said.

"I'm not going anywhere," Jon smirked.

Punk stopped in front of a sliver Firebird it was nice, cherry condition.

"I'm going to hold you to that," Punk smiled.

"Can I hold you?" Jon said.

"You can," Punk said and Jon pulled him close.

Holding Punk was like nothing Jon had ever felt, it was home in a way that home had never been. Jon held Punk a little tighter breathing him in.

"You smell so good," Jon whispered.

"You do too, a little smoky though," Punk told him.

"I am a smoker," Jon said, "I won't do it around you."

"So long as you don't like blow it in my face we're good," Punk said, "and you don't smoke in Rocket or in my house."

"Rocket?" Jon asked.

"Oh! I forgot to introduce you," Punk said turning toward the car, "Jon, this is Rocket, and Rocket this Jon. Jon will be riding with us to IHOP. And no you can't have syrup again it took me six Clorox wipes to get it off your seat after Uncle Scotty decide he was going to share his pancake breakfast with you."

Jon smirked, "You named your car Rocket? Def Leppard reference?"

"How'd you know?" Punk asked.

Jon shrugged watching Punk unlock the car before he opened the driver's side door for him and watched the man blush and fume, at his attempt at chivalry.

"Just for that I'm paying for breakfast," Punk snapped starting the car once Jon got inside.

"I'd expect nothing less," Jon said with a smirk.

"Besides, you're the one who spent almost five hundred in fifty dollar lap dances," Punk pointed out, "it's only fair I return the favor."

"I don't care who pays for breakfast or about the lap dance money, all I care about is that I'm getting to spend time with you," Jon said.


	4. Chapter Three

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

Punk drove in silence stealing glances at Jon, the man was nothing like what he'd thought he'd be. He was more than certain that Jon was gonna haul ass as soon as he found out that Punk didn't do one night stands. He also thought that he was gonna bolt when Trish's loose lips vaguely mentioned Adam, but Jon swore he wouldn't be swayed by anything he'd found in Punk's past. He tried to get the Adam and Amy thing out of the way but Jon would have none of it.

IHOP was pretty much dead this time in the morning since it was just opening and and besides and an old guy they were the only customers.

A pretty waitress came over, she had a bright smile horrible frosted hair and breasts that were about to over take her top, apparently she and Trish had either the same doctor or the same stylist.

"Hi, I'm Mickie what can I get for you boys to drink this morning?" her southern accent was adorable and if he weren't with Jon he'd find the woman incredibly annoying instead of endearingly irritating.

"I'll have water," Punk said.

"I'll have black coffee and some OJ," Jon told her with a bright smile as he leaned toward her.

"Sure thing," she set to menus on the table.

"You're about as bad as Cabana with the flirting," Punk laughed.

"I'd like her to give me the homie hook up," Jon said, "you flash a little smile seem interested and there is always extra hash browns in it for you."

"I'll make a note of that," Punk said, "no hash browns for me, I think I'm gonna have the western vegetarian omelet."

"I'm having some big ass pancakes, and you're going to share them with me," Jon said, "and I'm going to get some steak and eggs."

"That sounds so good," Punk was practically moaning thinking about steak and eggs.

"Why don't you have the same?" Jon asked.

"I have to be nearly naked for my job, and I'm getting older," Punk said, "the days of eating what I want with no consequence are gone."

"You look great, one breakfast isn't going to hurt anything, trust me," Jon said, "and if you want you can work out with me, Joe drags my ass out bed at five am five days a week to run suicides at the stadium with him and his cousins, they play pro football."

"That sounds intense," Punk said.

"Three big Samoan dudes screaming at me to move my lazy ass, it is," Jon smiled.

Mickie returned to take their orders, "What will it be?"

Jon didn't notice the way that she was leaning over. She'd undone the top two or three buttons on her top so that her cleavage spilled out and if she leaned over any further Punk was sure that her breast would come completely out but he supposed that's what Jon got for flirting with a waitress who worked the graveyard shift.

"We'll both have steak and eggs, I want mine scrambled, and then we want a double stack of buttermilk pancakes," Jon said.

"How would you like your eggs?" Mickie asked Punk as she leaned a little further Jon's way Punk wanted to tell her about herself but he feared she might spit in his food so he'd have to be nice until the meal was over.

"I'd like my eggs over easy," Punk said.

"I can't believe I'm having steak," Punk said, "I can't remember the last time I ate meat."

"Shit, I'm sorry I didn't know you were a vegetarian," Jon said.

"I'm not," Punk sighed, "it's complicated, I used to live with a vegetarian. We were together awhile, and I became a little sensitive to the issues. Some of the slaughter house treatment is inhumane."

"It is," Jon said, "I'm sorry, I never want to make you do something that is against your beliefs. Maybe I can track down Mickie and get you something else."

"No…no, I've actually been craving steak," Punk said grabbing Jon's hand to stop him from getting up, "just after that ended I kept on eating veg, just because it kept me in better shape. I could do with a bit of protein."

Jon said back down and looked at their joined hands, Punk met his gaze noting the hungry look in his eyes. Men that watched him dance looked at him like that and it scared him. He'd been through hell in the past, there were people that just wanted his body. There were people who wanted to control him. So many things to worry about but he didn't worry when he was with Jon.

Punk was more than excited about seeing his steak and eggs. He couldn't believe how much he'd missed meat. He couldn't hold back and try to do his thing where he ate sexy he was pretty much full on caveman as he devoured the meal.

Jon chuckled softly, "I won't let you go so long without meat I promise. I'd be glad to give you meat whenever you wanted."

"You promise," Punk said, "We're not talking just steak right?"

"Sure," Jon said, "I'd give you hamburgers, hot dogs, whatever you want."

"Whatever, I want huh?" Punk said.

"Yeah," Jon responded digging into his pancakes.

Punk downed his water and wished he dared to put more syrup on his pancakes, but he'd had enough food splurging for tonight.

Punk watched Jon finish his breakfast. Mickie came back with cleavage and more refills, typically though Jon got the most of both, though he didn't seem to care about the cleavage.

"Do you guys want separate checks?"

"No, I'll take it," Punk said taking out his wallet and credit card and handing it to the woman.

She walked away swinging her hips more than necessary, Punk turned back to Jon undaunted.

"Let me be honest Jon," he said, "I'd like to know what other kind of meat are you offering?"

"Damn baby, I thought you were going to ignore my little innuendo," Jon chuckled.

"I always prefer the direct approach," Punk said.

"Like I said I'll give you whatever kind of meat you want," Jon said simply, "whenever you feel like we're at that point."

"I'd like to just skip all that stuff you know," Punk said.

"Straight to the fucking?" Jon asked.

"No straight to the point where we feel comfortable enough for sex and it's not weird after," Punk said, "I don't want it to be a mistake and the awkwardness is too much to come back from."

"Agreed," Jon said.

"Are you finished eating?" Punk said, "I liked the thing you pitched about going to the beach and watching the sunrise."

"Sounds good," Jon said, "First I gotta go hit the head."

Punk nodded, Mickie came back with his card and his receipt.

"So, is your friend single?" Mickie asked.

"_Seriously_?" Punk said, "you're more desperate than I thought."

"I'm not desperate I'm seizing a moment," she defended.

"But it's not _your_ moment," Jon appeared behind her, "it's his moment. We're on _our_ first date. You've been a great waitress, and I suppose you're cute and all. You should probably seize the moment with someone who is interested."

"You're…_gay_?"

"Yeah?" Jon frowned, "Did I not seem gay enough? I mean being out on a date with a man and all?"

"I'm always misreading the signals," Mickie sighed.

"And I'm always flirting with the waitresses," Jon said, "forgive me? Both of you?"

Punk nodded, "Let's get out of here."

Jon dropped a crumpled ten on the table and Punk stood up and Jon followed them out smiling at Mickie again.

"I'm sorry," Jon said.

"Not your fault," Punk said, "bitch was so desperate I thought she was going to hump your leg."

"Are you jealous?"

"What? We just met, I am annoyed that some trampy waitress ignored that I was even there and moved on in on you," Punk explained.

"You're more than annoyed you're jealous," Jon said in a sing song voice, "Come on admit it Punk."

That hit a nerve and Punk walked faster out to his car, and Jon followed Punk stopped short of the driver's side door and whirled around, "Why do you have to be so damn charming?"

Jon smiled, "It's a gift."

"Just get in the car gifted one," Punk told him.

"Alright," Jon said.

Punk drove the ten minutes to the beach, unable to stop himself from smiling.

"I see that smile," Jon said, "you should do it more often."

"Give me a reason to," Punk told him.

"I'll give you hundreds of reasons if that's the case," Jon said.

They took off their shoes and were walking against the sunrise. There was something about the tactile experience of having his toes in the sand. It was nice, freeing almost.

"You never did admit that you were jealous," Jon said hopping back on the subject.

Punk smiled at him again he wasn't admitting anything, "Because I'm not."

"Only because I checked ho," Jon said, "I'm not really into chicks. I'm strictly dickly."

Punk chuckled, "That's good to know, I'm gender blind typically when it comes to relationships, but sexually I'm more attracted to men."

"You're a gay man with the tendency to fall in love with women?" Jon asked.

Punk laughed, "That's what Seth says. I still maintain that you fall in love with a person and not that naughty parts."

"In my case there isn't any validly in that," Jon said, "chicks don't do it for me. No matter how much I might love one, it'd always stay platonic, 'cause that's not what I want."

"What do you want?" Punk asked sitting down in the sand right by the water, waves crashing against his bare feet.

Jon sat down beside him, "I want you."

"I want you too," Punk said.

"So what now?" Jon asked, "Is this the part where you let me kiss you?"

"Yes," Punk laughed.

Jon pulled him close, "Prepare to be kissed like you've never been kissed before."

Jon's mouth swallowed up Punk's giggles. The kiss was a like a revelation, slow and deep, Punk could taste the weird strawberry syrup Jon had put on his pancakes and his unique flavor and Punk couldn't get enough. When Jon broke the kiss they were panting and lying in the sand.

"You're beautiful," Jon whispered, "I don't want to forget this moment, I don't want to lose this feeling."

"We can make summer forever," Punk told him.


	5. Chapter Four

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

Jon was bored and stuck in a car with Joe, the buzz of his cell phone in his pocket made him smile. Since that Sunday morning on the beach with Punk they'd been in constant contact, perhaps not contact of the physical variety, but the text messages were a bright spot in Jon's boring days. It was Friday and they were going to hang out for the first time since their date on Sunday morning. Punk had invited him for dinner, and he was attempting reassure the little Punk that he'd eat pretty much anything put in front of him.

"Is that the new boo?" Joe asked turning the car onto a side street.

They were in a town car, and in plain clothes, Joe in a nice gray suit and Jon in jeans boots one of his more decent button downs and he'd actually slicked back his wild hair, out here he wasn't just a uniformed cop like back home he was a detective and he had to look the part.

"We've gone on one date, I don't want to freak him out with a pet name," Jon said, "and if I were going to give him one it wouldn't be a ghost's greeting."

"Snarky, snarky," Joe said, "I can't wait till he finally breaks you off a piece you're getting crankier by the minute."

"Going without isn't what's bothering me," Jon revealed, "I'm just not used to any of this."

"What?" Joe said, "has it been that long since you've been with anyone man?"

"That and this whole thing is new to me too," Jon gestured between them.

"Were you so much of a moody ass back in Ohio that nobody would kick it with you?" Joe chuckled.

Jon sighed and gazed out the window, "I didn't have many friends, my family life was shit, and I didn't date back home. The last ditch attempt I had at getting laid was a friends with benefits guy from major crimes whose desk was adjacent to mine. And that was eight months ago."

Joe took all that in, "Well, I can understand that. I don't make friends easily, most of my friends are relatives who kind of have to put up with me because we're blood."

Jon chewed his lip and looked back down at his phone, "I'm no good with people unless I'm undercover."

"I think you're a good guy, man," Joe said, "I just don't get why you choose to wall yourself off."

"It's not a choice," Jon said, "it just kinda happened like that. I don't want to go all Lifetime on you, but I had to build walls to survive. If I weren't cop I'd be dead plain and simple."

"I feel you," Joe said, "Not to go all Lifetime myself, but I'm here if you wanna talk. We're partners, there is no reason we shouldn't be friends. I'm open to talk anytime. Most of what we're doing right now is killing time anyway."

"Thanks, but I'm good right now," Jon said.

"Offer stands at anytime you need to talk," Joe said.

"Wanna get coffee before we head down to the warehouse?"

"Might as well, we'll be on surveillance for hours," Joe said, "We might as well get a couple of pies too."

"Can we get both supreme and cherry?" Jon asked.

Joe laughed, "House of Pies it is, they've got decent coffee too."

Armed with pies, and coffee the duo made it back to the warehouse, just as Punk was texting him about free range chickens and how he was dying for some fried chicken. Which made Jon smirk. He gave a nod at the guys were leaving, they looked tired and ready for their beds. Jon fucking hated doing graveyard surveillance.

"I got him back on meat," Jon said.

"I'll bet you did," Joe laughed.

Jon rolled his eyes, "Now he's obsessed."

"I don't know how to respond to that," Joe said, "we are talking about you putting it down right?"

"No, he was a vegetarian," Jon replied, "I'd let you know if we were talking about sex. Which I'm thinking it's too soon in our relationship to talk about sex."

Joe laughed.

Jon planted himself at the table in front of the little TV where they were watching the feed from the bugged apartment across the street he grabbed a slice of pizza, and put his phone on the table.

"Anything interesting happening?" Joe said plopping down beside him.

"Irvine said that the wife was putting away groceries she looked pretty shifty but we didn't get a shot of what she bought, she stuck bags and all in the pantry," Jon reported.

"Maybe she's gonna be cooking dope tonight," Joe said.

"I don't know why anyone would do that shit," Jon said, "it reeks like the devil and if you fuck up you end up burnt to a fucking crisp, I've seen a Meth Explosion it ain't cool."

* * *

><p>Punk made sure everything was good before Jon came to the house that he bought with Cabana. Who he'd sent on his way with a bag full of chicken five minutes prior to Jon's arrival. It was fortunate that Jon's apartment building was only two blocks away from where Punk lived. Punk smiled when he saw Jon strolling up the path to his house, he was wearing a pair of worn jeans and a loose white button down different from the fitted tee's he'd worn to the club. His wild hair was blowing in the stagnant breeze. They were currently riding a heat wave the temp had coasted up to the hundreds which was abnormal for the Bay Area.<p>

As much as Punk had loved Chicago, he was enamored with San Francisco. It was like LA lite, less fake boobs, less movie stars, less sleazy casting directors, and featuring just as much sand and sun.

Punk opened the door before Jon could knock and the wild haired man reacted in a way that only he would he pulled Punk into an embrace.

"Nice place," Jon said.

"Thanks," Punk said pulling the man inside and kissing him soundly his arms going around his neck.

"Damn that was some hell of a greeting," Jon said.

"Come on in," Punk said leading him through the foyer and past a staircase under an arch down to steps into the sunken in living room, "make yourself at home."

"So I can pretty much help myself to anything?" Jon asked.

"Sure drinks are in the fridge, bathroom is through there," Punk said.

"What I want isn't in the fridge," Jon said pulling Punk in for another kiss.

Punk broke the kiss and sauntered through the other arch up the two steps into the kitchen. Jon followed with his eyes before following him.

"Smells good in here, did you cook this yourself?"

"I wanted fried chicken," Punk said, "can't trust a fast food worker in a greasy spoon to clog my arteries."

"Sexy and he cooks," Jon said, "I'm a lucky fuck."

Punk walked to the table set for two, "What do you want to drink? I've got beer, well Cabana has beer, there's Pepsi, of course there's water and fruit punch."

"You won't be pissed if I have a beer?"

"I'm never pissed at Cabana when he gets so drunk he has the biggest tab at the bar," Punk said.

"You don't kiss Cabana do you?"

"Nope, decidedly not," Punk said.

"Do you wanna kiss a guy that takes like beer and chicken?"

"If that guy is you, sure," Punk said.

"Damn, two dates, and I'm corrupting you," Jon said, "I'll get the fruit punch."

"Good choice," Punk said.

"Need help setting the table?"

"Nah, have seat I got it," Punk said.

Jon did get his own drink and asked Punk what he wanted, Punk chose Pepsi, and Jon got that for him while Punk got the chicken that he was keeping warm in the oven.

Punk set the mashed potatoes and mac and cheese on the table if he was eating fried chicken he was going to do it right. Dieting be damned.

"You're not going to want to say grace or anything?" Jon asked.

"I'm a confirmed atheist," Punk said.

"I'm confirmed heathen," Jon said, "this is going to work out well."

The chicken was exactly what Punk had been craving, he could still hear Amy's voice in his head complaining that he was eating meat AGAIN, but at least they were free range and cage free.

"Where'd you learn how to cook?" Jon asked, "This is really good."

"I learned in Philly," Punk said vaguely, fighting the urge to hold onto his fork, just the thought of Philly made him lose his appetite, thankfully he only had a few bites left.

"Did you go to culinary school?"

Punk laughed and sipped his soda, "Far from it."

"This is really good," Jon said.

"Thank you," Punk said.

Once they were done with dinner, Jon insisted that the least he could do was wash dishes. Punk helped.

"We're going to miss it," Punk said dragging Jon into the living room.

"What we watching?" Jon asked.

"A documentary," Punk said throwing them both down on the couch he flipped on the TV it was already on the history channel and recording.

"You're into UFO's?" Jon asked.

"I've got to be from somewhere, right?" Punk said tucking himself into Jon's side, "it's a running joke with me and my friends. Especially with Scott since he actually knows the people who supposedly spawned me. It's why I got this."

Punk showed him the spaceboy tattoo on his wrist.

Jon grabbed the arm in question rubbing his hand over the word. He looked at Punk like he legitimately understood rather than laughing like most people had. Jon traced a finger over the tattoos on the arm still looking Punk in the eye.

"You seem like you understand what it's like to feel different," Punk said.

"I do," Jon said.

Punk smiled and lay his head on Jon's lap, they watched the rest of the documentary in silence a comfortable one, Jon seemed to understand Punk's need for quiet during a documentary, and that movies and shows needed commentary but his docs were the only college he'd probably ever go to so he was going to make the most of it. Punk could barely focus though feeling the heat from Jon's jean clad leg and his warm hands carding through his hair. He wanted to get up and make sure the AC was working, but he was too comfortable to move.

"What are you doing tomorrow?" Jon asked.

"I work, but not till like ten," Punk said.

"Let's go to the pier," Jon said, "the little carnival is there. I want to eat cotton candy with you. Make out with you on the Ferris wheel. Make fun of carnies with you."

Punk smiled, "I'd like that too."

* * *

><p>Jon wasn't sure how his carnival excursion with Punk turned to a double date with Colby and Joe. But Punk apparently had extended the invite to Colby personally, so he wasn't complaining much. He wanted Punk alone. Colby and Joe were ahead of them holding hands and Jon wasn't aware of what Punk thought public protocol was for them, but he settled for putting his arm around Punk's waist lazily looping his thumb in the belt loop of Punk's jeans near his right hip.<p>

Punk looked sensational in the twilight, he was wearing tight white jeans denim colored Chucks and a chambray shirt which he left open revealing a white tank top. His hair was loose and flowing. The heat had abated since it was after sunset. Colby was wearing tattered jeans and tight white tee that left little to the imagination, Joe was dressed in one of the more causal outfits Jon had ever seen him plain dark jeans and black tee. He felt out of place in his jeans and Nikes and battered Metallica tee.

"We're going to go into the House of Mirrors," Colby reported.

"You're not going to freak out and think you're fat because of mirrors?"

"So long as it makes me look like I've got a Minaj ass," Colby said.

Punk shook his head, "That's all vegetable oil injections you know that, right?"

"Damn, can I do that at home?"

"Not a good idea," Punk said, "if you've ever seen Trish and Adam's mom, you'd know the dangers of cheaply done plastic surgery."

"Does she look like the cat lady socialite?"

"Imagine if one of the apes from Planet of the Apes impregnated Bo Derek, and the spawn got really old and was wearing a blonde wig," Punk said.

"86 the injections," Colby said.

Joe laughed and pulled his boyfriend into the house of mirrors.

"What do you wanna do first?" Punk asked.

"You're not afraid of heights are you?" Jon said, "I wanna go on the big coaster on the end."

"I'm not afraid," Punk said.

"If you get scared you can hold my hand," Jon said.

Punk said, "I'd hold your hand anyway."

Punk was not afraid of heights Jon discovered on the fastest roller coaster at the carnival, when Punk was leaning over from where he was buckled next to Jon and kissing his neck and palming his chest on the parts that had everyone screaming having him squeal for a different reason.

"Frisky thing aren't you?" Jon asked once they were off the ride and he made Punk walk in front of him for obvious reasons.

"I told you I'm not afraid of heights," Punk said.

"I'm afraid if I take you on the Ferris wheel you'll give me a Lewinsky right then and there," Jon said.

"I just might," Punk told him.

"What do you wanna do next?" Jon asked fighting to get his body under control Punk turned to him and kissed him slowly.

"Well, I was promised cotton candy," Punk said, "diet be damned."

"No more diets baby," Jon said, "you're beautiful. Seeing you eat those steak and eggs was sexy as fuck. You need a little more junk food and more protein too."

"You really want that Lewinsky don't you?" Punk said.

Jon chuckled, "For once I wasn't talking in innuendos. Seems like you can't stop thinking about my meat."

"Not since I felt it when you pulled me in front of you when were getting off the ride," Punk said, "and I felt first hand what you were working with."

"I've been thinking about it since I saw you," Jon said, "the lights landed on you and I'd never seen anyone like you before. I couldn't tell whether your eyes were green or brown but now I know they are definitely green. With flecks of gold and brown."

Punk swallowed hard, Jon worried for a second if he'd taken the light and flirty conversation to a creepy place. But Punk locked his arms around his neck.

"Why do you know the right things to say to me?" Punk kissed him slowly.

"You're an ass Joseph," Colby said breaking the spell when he and Joe joined Jon and Punk.

Punk pulled away grinning.

"You two have perfect timing," Jon groaned.

"We aren't interrupting are we?" Colby asked more sassy than sheepish.

"What do you think?" Jon asked.

"Come on I'm starving," Colby pulled Punk away from Jon and strode away with him, "I've got to tell you how much of a jerk Joe was to me in the house of mirrors."

"What did you say to the boo boo?" Jon asked falling into step with Joe behind Punk and Colby.

"I told him he could do with a little less gloss on his lips," Joe said, "we both end up all greasy mouthed after just one kiss."

"Really?"

"This is what you've been missing out on, fights over lip gloss," Joe said, "it'll blow over, that's what I love about him he's so distractible, this shit is only a big deal for ten minutes he'll be back to putting more lip gloss on me before we can even order our drinks from concession."

Joe was right they were making out before the vendor could even give Joe his coke.

Punk got cotton candy and a foot long hot dog and sour gummy worms. They chose one of the picnic tables to eat on. Punk ate seductively, leaving Jon with a hard on and half eaten nacho. Both couples decided to rid the Ferris wheel at the same time.

Jon had only joked about the Lewinsky, but Joe and Colby were clearly up to no good in the cart in front of them.

"Our friends are pretty brazen," Jon mused as they threw Jon's leftover Skittles at the cart in front of them Colby couldn't be quiet to save his life and he wasn't even the one getting off.

"They are," Punk said launching some of his gummy worms.

Thankfully, the ride was over shortly, Joe couldn't meet Jon's eyes he was red faced and Colby was wiping his hand on a napkin hiding a gleeful smile.

"Disturbing," Punk told Colby.

"I keeps my man satisfied," Colby said, "a satisfied man won't be leaning into the advances of thirsty tricks. If you gonna keep your man happy you can't be afraid to put it down at any time. Give him something he can feel."

"I've got plenty for him to feel once the time is right," Punk said, "the right time is not in front of beach full of strangers."

Jon couldn't wait for that right time to arrive but he wanted a good progression, he didn't want to rush anything with Punk. This had to be handled carefully, or else it could get awkward and go bad. Jon was beginning to think there was something there with Punk.

* * *

><p>Punk couldn't believe he was doing this, but Monday morning rolled around and he could only think of Jon who was at work, and complaining that he was stuck in an interrogation room and starving. So baking muffins with Seth to bring down to the precinct was the natural idea. He threw in some fresh fruit cut it up prettily and Seth bought cute baskets to put it all in and they were on their way.<p>

Punk's heart was hammering in his chest, he didn't know if Jon would be cool with this intrusion at his work but Jon seemed pretty happy to see him when he breezed in with Seth wishing his friend had worn a little more than his yoga clothes to the precinct but there was no changing Seth.

"Punk," Jon said a smile breaking out over his face, "what are you doing here?"

"You said you were bored and hungry, Seth and I were doing yoga and we thought we'd bring up a snack for you and your colleagues," Punk said, "I hope we're not intruding."

"Not all," an older man with wild hair and even wilder beard stepped forward, he was wearing a ill fitting suit with Santa tie, "Are those blueberry?"

"Yes, they are," Punk smiled at the man, "help yourself."

The man took one, and had a bite.

"So Good, who is this young man who bakes so well?" the man asked.

"Captain Foley, this is my boyfriend, Punk," Jon said simply.

Punk beamed at the liberal use of the word boyfriend.

"It's nice to meet you," Foley said, "great muffins."

"Thank you sir," Punk said.

"You're lucky to have this one, Good," Foley said before departing, "I can't get my DeWayne to do anything during football season."

"He's with DeWayne Johnson," Jon said.

"Head coach of the 'Niners, winner of the Heisman trophy? Son of the legendary Rocky Johnson a football legend in his own right," Punk said smiling at Jon's shocked expression, "of course I know these things I'm me."

"He's also Joe's cousin," Jon said.

"No shit really?" Punk said genuinely shocked.

Jon looked as though was pleased to one up his boyfriend in fun facts.

Punk passed over the basket and kissed Jon on the cheek, "Be a good boy and share with your friends. I gotta run. Literally, it's cardio day, we're meeting some of the other guys from the club."

"Can I stop by the club tonight?" Jon asked.

"Please, anytime!" Punk said kissing him again this time on other cheek before departing.

He drug Seth away from where he was giving Joe a tongue bath just outside the doors.


	6. Chapter Five

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

It had been four long weeks since they met and while Jon felt he was connecting with Punk on nearly every level they'd yet to take the next step or to divulge anything particularly personal. It was a Sunday morning Punk had invited Jon home with him after he came to watch his last dance. They were tangled up in his bed watching reruns of Will and Grace. Fully clothed there hadn't been sex yet between them they were holding back in more ways than one.

"What are you thinking about?" Punk asked.

"You of course," Jon said.

"I don't like that you frown when you're thinking about me," Punk's fingers grazed Jon's brow softly.

"I'm just trying to figure you out," Jon said, "neither of us are openest of books."

"That's true," Punk conceded, "what's something you'd like to know?"

"Tell me about LA," John said.

Punk shifted away from him, "I can't."

"Well, then gimme something easy," Jon said, "tell me about your life back in Chicago?"

"Not much to tell, I left home right after graduation, I graduated a year early," Punk said.

"You must have done well at school," Jon said.

Punk shrugged, "Cabana was always smarter than me. Though he only decided to use those brains when it came time for tests. Didn't matter how well I did, I couldn't afford college."

"There's always grants and scholarships," Jon said, "and it's never too late."

"Too much has happened," Punk said, "I have an okay life, now."

"You do," Jon said, "I didn't go to college either. I couldn't afford it either."

"You've done well too," Punk said.

"I'm still alive," Jon said, "there were times where I thought I wouldn't be."

"Things were that bad for you?"

"Pretty bad," Jon sat up in bed, as much as he hated to Punk's bed was too comfortable for an intense conversation.

"What happened?" Punk asked.

"Here's the cliff notes version. Junkie mom, never knew my dad," Jon explained, "it was either protect the streets or run the streets I grew up in one of the worst slums in the city."

"That couldn't have been easy," Punk said.

"It wasn't," Jon said, "it was hell. But I'm here now. Here with you. Tell me about where you grew up."

"My mom was a switchboard operator at the hospital, she worked graveyard," Punk said, "we lived in a house just outside of the city."

"You grew up with just your mom too?"

Punk's face closed off, "No, my dad and my brother lived there too."

"Were you close with your mother?"

"She was the more relatable of the three," Punk said, "did you have any siblings?"

Jon smiled, "No but I had a best friend. His name was Enzo Amore, he was from Jersey he moved down when were ten. He lived in the burbs, he thought hanging out in my hood made him a Certified G. But it made him a target. We were waiting for a bus to go into the heart of the city when a drive by happened. They were shooting at some guys from a rival crew and Enzo got hit. I held him as he took his last breath."

"Was he your first boyfriend?"

"No," Jon said smiling and shaking his head, "Enzo was all about the chicks called himself the titty master."

Punk laughed, "I'm sorry, the titty master?"

"We were thirteen and held his first boob when he came up with that one," Jon said laughing, "he was always about getting some. It's crazy how much time has past since he's been gone I miss him like mad."

Punk reached out and cupped his cheek, "I'm sorry Jon. I can't imagine a world without out my goofy Cabana. He was there for me when no one else was. Got me out of that horrible situation in Philly. He saved my life. He stuck by me when I went to LA, I just…I'm sorry."

"Since Enzo I haven't really opened myself up to anyone," Jon revealed, "Joe is trying to be my friend. But it's like I don't know how anymore. But I'm trying."

Punk frowned again his brow adorably furrowing, "I can't…"

"You can't what?"

"I can't open up…I'm sorry…I want to tell you all these things, but I just can't open up and no one else has ever asked for or wanted that part of me."

Jon nodded, "I want every part of you. Past present and future. Just let me in."

"I don't know how…" Punk said.

"Whenever it feels like I'm getting close to connecting with you, it seems like you shut down," Jon said, "I don't want to push you Punk but I need to know more before we go any further," Jon said, "I wanna know what your life was like, I want to know about the people who hurt you I wanna know what makes you happy. I need to know how make you laugh. But before you'll open up I think I gotta do the same."

"I'm going to tell you something I've never told anyone," Jon said sighing he shut his eyes thinking back to those nights when he was a kid, "when I was fourteen my mom got a boyfriend. One of the best ones she'd ever had. He helped her get clean for a bit, brought home a decent check and even got us out of the projects for awhile we were living in the burbs, down the block from Enzo's family. For awhile I thought everything was great."

Jon stopped and sighed for a moment, he told himself he could do this, "He started to look at me in a different way, told me I was turning into a fine young man. By this point I'd already had my first kiss and got the crap kicked out of me by one of my mom's exes and I was more than sure this new boyfriend had been briefed on that situation from my mother. He was almost flirting with me, but I saw it as him taking an interest. Grown men were never interested in me, they viewed me as an annoyance or an obstacle. He didn't…"

Punk slid closer to Jon then as if he already knew where the story was going.

"My mom went out with her friends from work one night and he was home with me he made dinner and we watched wrestling on TV, somehow he started showing me a few holds. He kissed me, I kissed back. He pushed things further and I wanted to stop," Jon whispered looking down at his lap trying not to hyperventilate, "he wouldn't. He told me that he wanted to show me what it was like. That he was going to make me scream."

Jon couldn't stop the tears his words jumbled and his voice thick with emotion, "I don't have to tell you what happened next. He made me scream in more ways than one. When it was over I was disgusted with myself. On some level I'd enjoyed it, and I hated myself for it. It went on for a year my mom got put on nights she had a good steady job, one night there was a problem with the fryer at the little dive café where she worked and she came home around ten. She heard me crying and came in and found him on top of me."

"Jon…" Punk whispered.

"I'm okay…" Jon said, "she did something I didn't expect she pushed him off me. Called me a slut and said we were leaving told him not to contact either of us again or she'd go to the police and he knew that they'd do to guys like him in jail. We lived with her dealer for awhile, she started using right away. She was never that woman again she'd been when we lived in the Burbs. I tried to bury that time. It's why I don't bottom. I can't feel that vulnerable again."

"I'm sorry," Punk said sliding his arm around Jon.

"It was my fault," Jon said, "what kind of sick fuck comes for some prick who is dating their mom? I could have told someone and stopped the whole thing, but I didn't want to go back to that life in the projects, that life where I was this street kid with a junkie mom."

"You were a teenager," Punk said, "when I was that age I think a strong breeze in the right direction could get me off. It was the first time you felt safe, it sucks that it came at a price."

"Seems like you know what that's like," Jon sniffled.

"I do…" Punk said, "when I was sixteen I was really into the music scene, I was always at rock show, that was where I met Raven. We were together from the time I was sixteen till I was twenty. He was a drummer in this punk band and he did tattoos. He was way older than me, he was twenty five and I thought he was the coolest ever. I'd go to shows and flirt with him, I took a road trip with Cabana to Philly and ended up getting the Straight Edge Rocker on my stomach. It hurt like hell, and the sex was worse. It was my first time but I didn't tell him that, so we didn't prepare as much as we should have. But it was what I thought I wanted. When I came back from taking off for five days my family never noticed."

"Raven's band started playing more shows in Chicago we saw each other more often. He kept pushing for me to come with him back to Philly but I wanted to finish school first and I didn't want to leave Colt behind," Punk revealed, "we compromised, I decided to graduate early. I signed up for accelerated classes and he came and got me for breaks and holidays. I thought I was in love. But I was a puppet."

"When I graduated I just took off after the ceremony it was the first time that my parents and my brother had shown for any of my school functions," Punk said, "it was too little too late and the perfect goodbye."

"Raven was controlling from the start, it wasn't long after we moved in together he had me cut ties with all my friends in Chicago, even Cabana," Punk revealed, "he'd try to manipulate me into doing what he wanted. It wouldn't work and we'd argue, and the fights were the worst. He didn't start hitting me until I became really defiant. Eventually, I learned to control my temper and keep my mouth shut to try and avoid the beatings. I learned quickly how to cook and take care of his house, feed him and his loser friends that were always hanging out at our apartment over his tattoo studio."

"That was why you didn't want to talk about it," Jon said.

"I haven't talked about Raven since I came to Cali, I told Cabana the whole story," Punk said, "I left the day after my twenty fourth birthday. He came in drunk and decided that he was going to give me birthday sex whether I liked it or not we had people over when he did it."

"Baby so I'm sorry," Jon pulled him close he couldn't imagine anyone watching the humiliating times he'd been raped.

Punk sniffled, "They cheered him on, like he was scoring touchdowns or something. I'd never been more mortified."

"Then thankfully he left me there and went off to a dive bar with his friends," Punk said, "it's the best thing he's ever done for me. I called Colt who was living in LA by then and he got me a plane ticket and I was out of the city in a few hours."

Jon pulled him closer and rubbed his back, "We're quite a pair aren't we?"

Punk laughed, "We are. Is the fact that you lost Enzo the only reason you don't have many friends Jon?"

"Well, most of the guys on the force back home were older and staunch they didn't like the way I did things. I got a collar one of the biggest drug lords and earned the biggest bust they'd ever seen in years, but I was reckless, got myself shot and they decided that I could do with a change of scenery and colleagues more suited to my style."

"Sounds like they were jealous," Punk said.

"It's not easy for me to open up," Jon said, "I won't make that mistake anymore. I'm gonna let people in and I hope you do the same."

Jon took a deep breath he wasn't expecting all that to come out at one time. He very seldom disclosed information about his past though he didn't tell much but it was more than he'd even admitted to Joe who was the closest friend he'd had in years. Punk was becoming so much more than that for him.

"I will," Punk nodded.

"Tell me about LA," Jon said.

"I spent weeks holed up on Cabana's couch," Punk revealed, "then he reminded me that I was in the city where I could make my most secret dream come true. The dream I had of being an actor that I abandoned in favor of lying underneath Raven. I pulled myself together and decided to get some headshots done, that was how I met Adam. He's Trish's brother, my ex, and he's a still photographer for Scene Magazine. I got some pictures done went on a few auditions I even landed an tennis shoe commercial, it was for Lugz, do you remember those."

Jon chuckled, "Yeah I do, which commercial was it?"

"It was the basketball commercial I was the bleached blond guy wearing the high tops sitting on the bleachers," Punk said.

"I remember that one," Jon said.

"LA was world of empty promises and lies, there was so much drugs and corruption," Punk said, "I got in good with this producer against the advice of my talent agent of course. His name was Gabe, he took me to parties and events got me auditions for this TV series said he was gonna make me a star. He was always so handsy. One night we were at a party I stopped to talk to my talent agent left my drink unattended. Came back drank my Pepsi and the next thing I knew I was waking up the next day with a killer headache on Gabe's couch. He acted like everything was cool until I went to my next casting."

"It was a casting for a soft core porno series on a satellite porn network and I didn't even know it when I got there, they offered me a contract, based on a tape they'd seen," Punk said, "I was confused as hell until they showed me. It was from that night at the party. I'd never seen myself like that. I was completely insatiable, gave old Gabe the ride of his life. I tried to get the tape back, they gave it to me because they felt bad for me because I really didn't know then I went to confront Gabe who laughed in my face then asked me if I wanted a repeat. I went to Ace, my talent agent and all he gave me was a sad smile and an I told you so."

"I ended up in a dive bar," Punk said, "Adam came in we talked I cried and he took me out for ice cream. We dated for two weeks until I found out he was married. His wife Amy found out about me and invited me over for coffee and invited me to go to bed with both of them."

"Flash forward four years, seven break ups later, here I am," Punk said.

"Which one was the vegetarian?"

"Amy she is a vegetarian and animal activist," Punk explained, "they introduced me to Trish. They were opening up a new strip club that catered to an all male clientele. Dancing to me was a lot like acting each step is a new role to play. It was good money and I took the job."

"You're good it at," Jon said.

"Trish taught me everything I needed to know," Punk said simply, "The club saved my life. Even after things didn't work with Amy and Adam I was able to keep them as friends because of our affiliation with the club, I hope that doesn't bother you."

"It doesn't," Jon said, "how amicable was your split with them?"

"Well, my split with them was better than their split from each other. Adam wanted babies Amy didn't. I wanted Adam to grow up and buy a house instead of renting an apartment, it was stupid couple stuff," Punk said shaking his head, "None of it matters now. I bought this place with Cabana, Adam filed for divorce. Amy moved on and is dating a magician named Matt who is incapable of reproduction."

"No hard feelings," Jon said, "or should I say lingering feelings?"

"They were a rebound," Punk chewed his lip, "it was like I was trying to force something where it didn't belong."

"You needed someone to love you without hurting you, and in their own way, they did that," Jon said, "they didn't hurt you did they?"

Punk smiled and shook his head, "Though most of the time the relationship was comprised of the three of us, it was surprisingly normal. Neither of them hit me, or yelled. They're good people, just not right for me."

"So we opened up," Punk lay his head on Jon's chest and entwined their fingers together, "what happens now?"

"Whatever we want," Jon said, "now that the past is out in the open the future's wide open."


	7. Interlude

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

**_Author's Note_**: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, Favorited and followed this story. Special thanks to lamentomori for helping me with pacing problems and for giving me constructive feedback on the chapters, even before they were submitted.

_Present Day_

Punk's morning was off to a great start, he had written Vince a letter, he'd done his morning yoga, he was making himself breakfast, he'd gone out to water his plants. He looked around at the upscale Hollywood Hills neighborhood, with the stuck up neighbors he hated the place, and was planning on moving soon, his best friend had offered him in a room in his house if things got too heavy for him out in LA. Things were getting better the helicopters had moved away the reporters were no longer camped out on the lawn. His whole past was tabloid fodder his boyfriend was in jail on embezzlement charges. The police had finally stopped harassing him once they started building a case against Vince.

Punk was no longer important to them as he'd only met Vince after he'd stepped down from day to day operations with the company so he wasn't a target for the case. They'd already decided that they were going to put him on the stand at the trial. Which was fine with Punk, considering what the defense said about the information he was sitting on, he'd be the key to Vince walking and having the truly guilty punished. Punk shook his head at the policeman in the car that was supposed watching the house but was clearly watching his eyelids his thoughts going to another officer he'd known a long time ago. He had been protected and served numerous times, though he tried not think of that time especially not now when things were so bleak with the trial and all he couldn't deal with the what if's right now.

The old lady from across the street blew her horn again as she drove by for her ten o'clock tea at the country club. He sighed looking at what he was wearing he didn't notice that he'd been out in just his sweats, which left little the imagination they were low slung on his hips low enough to let the world know that he enjoyed the smooth look and manscaping was one of his pastimes and the material was worn and even though she was old as fuck he was sure she could see the outline of his cock from the road. He figured he'd done the old bitch a solid, he was sure she'd not seen a cock since her husband died, which was probably around the time Punk was born which made the whole thing pretty fucking gross.

"Punk," a voice hissed from out of nowhere, he turned to find the source of the voice.

There in the bushes was small brunette, who was so familiar to Punk.

"April?"

She jumped out and grabbed his hand and ran him to the back of the house. They ran to the middle of the property, "There's no time to explain."

"What the fuck?" he asked as she jumped into the pool taking him with her just before what felt like a small tremor rocked the place.

He didn't hear the boom because of the water in his ears, when April pulled him out he saw the falling debris, smelled the smoke.

"I'll explain everything later I've just got to get you up the trail there's a car waiting we've got to get you way the hell away from here," she said.

Punk was thankful he'd worn shoes, but he hated his choice of wardrobe, now that he'd gotten wet the pants were even more see thru.

"Could you?" April gave him her jacket, "I haven't seen this much of you since you worked at the club. You know underwear is not over rated."

"I didn't expect you to throw me into the pool then take me on a nature walk after my house went up in flames," Punk said.

"Expect the unexpected," she said.

"How'd you know that was going to happen?" Punk asked.

"We had a feeling that the situation would escalate," April said, "she's getting desperate. My superiors decided that it'd take more than LA's finest to keep you alive long enough to make it to trial."

"Your superiors?" he asked, "you're a computer salesperson."

They'd come to the end of the trail about half a mile from Punk's house in the hills. She stopped running him. Punk wondered how she could run so well in those low heeled shoes over rocks when he was tripping in his sneakers every step of the way.

"I'm FBI," April flashed her badge, "I have been since they recruited me at seventeen."

"Damn," Punk panted.

"I need a minute," he said as a black town car pulled up.

"Car's here I'll explain on the ride," April said.

Once they were in the car Punk couldn't stop staring at her, it was like he didn't know her anymore and she was one of his best friends. He'd known her for many years, since he used to baby sit her when he still lived at home. She lived with an aunt down the block from Punk's parents, and the woman worked crazy hours April was often shuffled off to daycare until Punk's mom worked it so he could earn a little extra cash and her aunt could save a bundle on daycare by leaving her with him. She'd been a child of immigrant parents who had more kids than they could support.

They'd kept in contact during all the shit with Raven and then with Adam and Amy. April had shown up at the club one night four and half years ago to reconnect with Punk. She hadn't talked much about what she'd been up to work wise other than the vague mention of her degree computer science and her job with a software company that brought her San Francisco.

"Does Celeste know?" Punk asked of April's wife.

April shook her head, "She'd be in danger if she did. I'm doing what I can to keep my family safe, and that includes you ."

"How are the kids?" he asked.

"Did you get the pictures I sent?" she asked her demeanor changing, "Brooke is totally trying to walk and Hayden is teething now."

"I did get them I meant to call, but things are a little crazy," Punk said, "I've been trying to stay away because…"

"I know," April said, "I get it. I know that you're not around much because of the things that are going on with Vince."

"When this is over I'll make more time," Punk said, "I'm just not safe to be around clearly. The explosion has got Vince's ex wife's finger prints all over it."

"I couldn't have asked for a better window to get you the hell out of there," April said, "we're going to relocate you. You're going into the Program until it's time for trial."

"The Program as in the Witness Protection Program?"

"Yes," she said.

"How are you going to explain why you've been away?"

"I'll tell her I'm on the road promoting the newest product," she said, "I'll video chat from a locked connection, where they can't track the location, but no one in my civilian life knows I'm with the Bureau."

"I have Brooke's picture as the screensaver on my phone," Punk smiled, "she's so cute."

April smiled, "She has eyes like yours."

It seemed as though they'd driven forever, when they finally stopped it was dark and Punk was half asleep, when they reached the non descript office building he was herded into a doctors office by an agent in a suit while April said she was going to change. The doctor checked him over.

"I'm fine, we were in the pool when the bomb went off," Punk snapped.

"Look I gotta do my job," the doctor said, "let's make this easy for both of us."

Punk endured a physical and was thankful that the doc was charting and he was being left alone when April came in dressed in drier clothes, he wanted the same thing for himself. The news was on covering the explosion in the posh Hollywood hills neighborhood.

"It has been confirmed at this time, there were no survivors in the explosion," the news lady was saying.

"So, that's it…" Punk whispered his mind spinning with panic, "everyone is gonna think I'm dead?"

"Well, it's either that or really be dead," April said crossing her arms, "and I mean really most sincerely dead. You take your pick."

"Vince knows I'm okay right?" he asked, "I don't want him to off himself thinking I'm gone and there isn't any hope for him getting out."

"He knows," April said, "I didn't lie to you when I said we were going to make this happen."

He shrugged the blanket off and stretched a little noticing the man standing behind April for the first time. There was no mistaking him, it was Jon, his breath caught on his throat. He didn't expect to see the man ever again, and he didn't expect to feel like no time had passed since the time he'd last saw him.

"Do you two know each other?" Dr. Sampson asked.

"No!" April said, "no they don't. If you're done checking him over, the three of us have some things we need to go over."

Dr. Sampson gave her a questioning look she just smiled what she assumed was her innocent smile but Punk should probably tell her that it was far from innocent.

"April!" Punk called, "Why didn't you tell me, you were bringing him in?" Punk asked.

She shrugged, "Wanted it to be a surprise, given your history with him and all. You're leaving behind everything. Why not give you back something you thought you'd lost long before this."

"I moved on since then," Punk said.

"Clearly," April said crossing her arms over her chest as she looked between the two men.

"How do you two know each other?" Jon asked it was the first time he'd spoken.

"I married Trish's little sister Celeste," April said, "We met when Punk was still dancing and Celeste was tending bar. We became best friends."

She'd left out most of the story, which he was pretty thankful for the less Jon knew about his connection to April the better.

"You let him live after calling you by your first name," Jon smirked.

"That's a privilege reserved for friends," she said, "though you haven't earned the right to use April, yet, you can call me AJ, since you are going to come into hiding with us, and you're not going to bitch anymore, I think I at least owe you that."

"Are you going to stop calling me Mr. Good?"

"I'm actually going to call you Dean Ambrose," she said reaching into her bag and chunking a passport and license baring that name, it was exactly like his own driver's license and passport, same picture, same details except the name and address.

"I like it," Punk said meeting Jon's eyes, "it suits you. What about me? I want to be Seymour Buttz?"

"I'm sure you would," she said, handing him an ID and passport he read it over Phillip Jackson, it was another attempt on her part to get him to resolve his daddy issues, which if you asked April had gotten him into this whole mess.

"You think you're so fucking clever," Punk threw them back at her after reading his new name.

"Thought it was pretty fitting," she said.

"You've got on here that I'm from Meridian Mississippi?"

"Yeah so what you can talk just like that cowboy guy that always came to the club?" she asked.

"It's a different dialect," Punk said.

"We'll work on it later, right now we've got to get on a jet, and fly to our destination," she said.

"You're not going tell us where we're going?" Jon asked.

"Nope," she smirked.

"Can I get some more clothes, something less comfortable and a bit drier?" Punk asked.


	8. Chapter Six

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

Punk was happy, he was closer than ever with Jon, he'd just finished his eleven pm dance, and found out that all his VIP dances had been booked with one customer. The fat fuck that had come in his pants during one of his dances a few weeks back. The disgusting balding man was beaming at him with that sick twisted smile when he walked into the room.

"Mr. Punk, you're looking as seductive as ever," the man said licking his lips and pulling his pants up on his pot belly.

Punk turned on the stereo and shoved the man to the couch he was loathed to be alone with the disturbing fat fuck again but he wasn't going to turn down cash, "You don't get to talk except but to tell me how do you want me?"

"You are a truly exquisite creature," the man said reverently, taking in Punk's body.

"You gonna come in your pants from just looking at me this time?" Punk asked unable to hold back a sneer of disgust.

"When one is confronted with true perfection it's hard to contain oneself," he said, "especially with the way you moaned for me while I tugged on those pretty little hoops you have there."

Punk looked down at his nipple rings then crossed his arms over his chest.

"They are sensitive aren't they Mr. Punk, probably more so if someone were to suckle them, and bite them," the man said, "I could probably have earned myself a scream."

"You are a disgusting man," Punk said.

"You're selling a fantasy, Mr. Punk," the man told him, "a beautiful fantasy, and I wasn't the only one who was turned on that night."

"I was hard from before," Punk said.

"From whoever you'd met up with in the booth," the man said, "I thought that sweaty foreskin race was beneath a performer of your caliber. You wouldn't even accept a bid for a booth dance from me."

"It's not the booth dances that are beneath me," Punk told him, "you're really creeping me out dude."

"You don't like hearing the truth Mr. Punk?" the man asked.

"I'd like you to leave," Punk said, "I'll have your money refunded, don't ask for me again, or I'll have you thrown out every time you come to the club."

"You're my favorite, little doll," the man reached for him.

"Find a new favorite," Punk said, "may I suggest Ziggler, you can probably talk him into piercing his nipples."

"Ziggler, is no you, Mr. Punk, you've got a certain something about you that the other guys don't have," he said, "something I've never seen and I've been to a lot of clubs I've been in the company of many beautiful men. You possess a very rare commodity."

"That's what every one says about a guy who can make it clap," Punk said.

"I can still watch your stage dances right?"

"As long as you don't try to touch me again," Punk said simply before heading out the door.

He'd forgotten all about his creepy conversation with the balding man and was walking to his car at closing time. When someone grabbed him he suddenly remembered, he screamed and tried to jerk away.

"Easy, babe, didn't you get my text?" it was Jon thankfully.

"You scared the hell out of me," Punk said hugging his boyfriend, "I'm going to ignore the liberal use of the word babe as a pronoun replacement for my name outside the confines of my house or your apartment."

"Noted," Jon grinned, "so I take it you didn't get my text."

"Shit, I left my phone in Trish's office," Punk said, "and then I forgot to even look at it after the mandatory staff meeting. Cabana is going to have to go sensitivity training, I got kick out of that for sure."

"Why?"

"He cracked and grabbed Trish's ass," Punk laughed, "poor fuck has been in love with her every since they met, years ago on campus at UCLA when she was stripping , he blew through a month's rent the week he first met her and I had to hock his game systems to pay the rent."

Jon laughed, "Trish is gorgeous, even I can admit that. But Cabana has to know that she's his boss he could have gotten worse than sensitivity training."

"She's just fucking with him," Punk said, "she gets off on teasing him. She asked him if her ass looked fat and pulled up her skirt."

"No panties?"

"Nope," Punk said, "she's gotta go too. Amy totally saw the whole thing and told Adam who recommended a good therapist, it's like couples therapy but worse."

"She was asking for trouble," Jon said.

"I wish they'd just fuck already," Punk said, "This has gone on for years, Cabana dating these empty headed sorority chicks, and her dating dicks like Diesel."

"Some people need time to figure out what they already know," Jon shrugged.

"I guess so," Punk said, "so what's the plan for tonight?"

"The Revival theatre is playing old Brando films this weekend," Jon said, "I wanted to see if you wanted to check it out but I gotta buy the tickets early no doubt they'll be sold out at the door."

"I'd like that," Punk said, "We could go tonight I'm off tomorrow. Right now, though alls I wanna do is lay with you. Let's go to your place."

Jon pulled him close, "Laying with you is always nice."

"You wanna drive?" Punk passed Jon the keys to Rocket.

Jon drove them back to his place. Jon's apartment was nice but barely furnished. He had only a few dishes, an awesome coffee maker pots, and pans, a big sleigh bed and a big TV in the bedroom. Punk had spent a small amount of time there. Punk could deal with the fact that his boyfriend was a minimalist, he and Cabana had collected enough crap and moved it into the house they'd bought so much crap that the two spare rooms were junk rooms. Jon had made him some spaghetti one night before he went to work and they'd watched cartoons one morning after he'd gotten off work.

"Mind if I grab a shower?" Punk asked.

"Sure," Jon said.

"Get comfortable I'll be back in a minute," Punk said leaving Jon in the bedroom flicking on the TV and undressing.

He returned from the shower to find his boyfriend reading Jon nodded. Punk headed into the adjoining bathroom shedding clothes as he went. When he came out Jon was in his boxers sprawled out on the bed reading one of Punk's comics his face illuminated by the low light of the bedroom making him look almost angelic, his dirty blondish brown hair framing his face like wild halo. Punk took in the lean sinewy muscles of Jon's torso, his long pale legs and the light hair that covered them feeling his arousal grow, they were going to have to have the talk and soon. He was terribly turned on by seeing his boyfriend reading a comic.

He'd wanted Jon since he saw him and so much so, it made the fat fuck from the club thought Punk's boner had been for him that first night. He'd been dragged into a VIP dance with the fat fuck right after the dance with Jon in the booth.

It had been nearly five weeks since their first date. All the foreplay had turned to twelve play, Punk wasn't sure if it was the heat that had sex on his mind or if it was Jon's state of undress, he'd seen him so nearly naked before, this time was different, though Punk was naked and he smelled like Jon's soap and shampoo, he was in Jon's space the place he guarded so fiercely and there was something about being allowedq into Jon's sanctuary.

He'd been hot for Jon since day one, it'd been five weeks, they'd waited plenty it was time for that next step. Punk wondered how to broach the subject.

"You know I can feel you watching me," Jon said, "what you thinking about baby?"

Jon set the comic on the bedside table near the lamp and rolled over onto his back.

"I'm thinking about you," Punk whispered.

"I'm intrigued and totally stoked that you let me call you baby," Jon said.

"When we're at either of our places, I don't mind being called baby," Punk said basking in the adoration of being someone's baby, "or any other personal endearments you'd like to use. In public it seems a bit patronizing."

"I'll try to remember that," Jon said with a smirk.

* * *

><p>Jon smirked there was hunger in Punk's gaze tonight, he liked the way his boyfriend was watching him. He paid attention to what the tattooed man wasn't saying. The gaze was so smoldering, that Jon could feel his body responding to the attention Punk was giving him.<p>

"We should talk," Punk said walking over to the bed still clad in just a towel.

"Is this the talk?" Jon sat up and moved over to edge of the bed close to where Punk was standing.

"I'm not sure which one you're referring to," Punk played innocent.

"I'm talking about the sex talk," Jon said.

"We've already had the previous partners talk," Punk said, "we both get tested regularly, we've done the responsible thing as far the physical repercussions of us having sex. But we should talk about the emotional stuff. I'm gonna get clingy. I'm gonna want you around more often, I'm gonna need at least two or three orgasms to be satisfied, I might end up falling for you."

"Let go baby," Jon told him grabbing Punk by the hips and pulling him closer, "I'll catch you every time."

"I might need catching," Punk told him.

Jon pulled him closer, and removed the towel from his waist. Dropping his gaze lower as the towel fell away to see Punk's erection poking proudly against his stomach like the rest of him it was perfect and Jon was about to worship it when Punk was on him. Kissing him, hungrily, desperately rutting against him as he straddled his lap. These kisses so different from their previous kisses. Jon had never seen this side of Punk before. He reversed their positions easily.

Punk broke the kiss panting, "I want you, and I'm ready for whatever is next."

"Me too," Jon whispered reversing their positions and latching on to Punk's neck making the tattooed man moan.

Jon had fallen in love with that sound, he was desperate to hear it again.

"How am I supposed to keep quiet when you keep doing that?" Punk asked.

"Who said I wanted you to be quiet?" Jon asked before sucking harder on the patch of skin where his neck met his shoulder.

"Oh," Punk whispered his mouth falling open.

Jon focused his next attack on the tattoo behind Punk's ear, pushing his wet hair away, and breathing in his scent smelling his own shampoo and body wash and Punk's own natural scent, finding himself even more intoxicated by Punk's presence.

"I don't want you quiet," Jon growled taking in more of that scent, "I want you to let me know you like it."

"Just keep going," Punk whispered swallowing hard, Jon was fascinated by the muscles in his throat moving, "I've like everything you've done so far."

Jon smirked straddling Punk's hips and feeling his tattooed lover try to thrust his hips up against him the thin material of his boxers the only thing separating them. Jon returned to Punk's neck before pulling on his nipple rings enjoying the fact that he was making more noise than before. When he attached his mouth to one of the rings and pulled on it with his teeth he got some desperate whimpers in response. He suckled the little nubs gently apologizing for his recent rough treatment of them.

"Please," Punk moaned.

"You don't have to beg me baby," Jon responded making his way down lower, kissing Punk's quivering stomach ignoring his erection leaking prettily against his stomach in favor of running his palms up and down Punk's smooth inner thighs, then he peppered the right thigh with kisses.

The pants from his lover were all the encouragement he needed. He'd wanted to this since that night at the club when he'd first seen Punk dance. He'd wanted to get up close and personal with those gorgeous thighs since he'd felt them wrap around him during the booth dance.

"That feels so good," Punk whimpered, "how do you make everything feel so amazing?"

Jon smiled against Punk's flesh before giving the other thigh the same treatment. Punk's whines and whimpers were making it hard for Jon to ignore his own erection. He pulled away for a minute to dig in the beside drawer for the lube and condoms he'd bought after his first date with Punk. He was waiting for the time when the man broached the subject of sexual relations.

When he turned around he found Punk had scooted up closer to the head of the bed and was propped up on his elbows watching him. Jon discarded his boxers in an attempt to be seductive but it was more oafish than seductive but it had Punk's attention at least his eyes followed the blue fabric till it was out of sight then they darted back up to Jon's cock. He bit his lip and he fucking blushed and brought his gaze back up to Jon's eyes. Punk had clearly cornered the market on seductive and Jon was pretty sure it wasn't what he was aiming for but he was fucking cute.

"Such a pretty blush," Jon said taking Punk in again, "such pretty everything. I don't know how I got so lucky."

"Are you gonna fuck me or talk me to death?" Punk smirked.

"Definitely gonna fuck you," Jon said, "a little commentary never hurt anyone."

Punk was on him again, kissing him in that desperate hungry way, that led to more distracting lingering kisses. He moved them so Punk was on his back, and took the time to explore his lover's body. Starting with those nipple rings, first he pulled on them with his hands then he bit them drinking in Punk's moans.

"Do you know how beautiful you are?" Jon asked.

"'m nothing special," Punk said.

"Well, I think I have my work cut out for me," Jon said bringing his lips right back down on Punk's.

Jon wasn't going to be subtle or gentle in the slightest. The kiss was rough and demanding, more so than the previous ones they'd shared.

He pulled off chasing Punk's lips with a rough bite. Punk simply looked up at him with those lust filled green eyes. Jon moved down his body taking in every detail, from the heaving chest to the little dip where his belly button was or the old English letters of his tattoo to his erection poking up proudly leaking against his stomach.

He took Punk's length in hand and jacked him slowly swiping his thumb at the tip never breaking eye contact. Hearing the soft gasps and moans, was turning him on beyond belief but he wasn't going to rush this, they hadn't rushed anything since they'd started seeing each other he damn sure wasn't going to rush this. He was getting off on giving Punk pleasure each moan, whimper, and sigh, every expression was glorious.

"You're beautiful," Jon told him.

"You should see it from my side," Punk whispered pulling him in for another kiss.

Jon broke the kiss, "We might have to agree to disagree on that one. Can you bring your legs up for me? I'm going to prepare you. I'll take it easy."

"I don't want easy," Punk told him, "I like it rough."

"Too bad, cause the first time is gonna be easy," Jon said, "the second time, you might need a safe word. I am the one with the handcuffs, so I make the rules."

Punk grinned, "Noted."

Jon nodded, he was going to make it his mission to prepare Punk really well, "You have been having vanilla sex with some vegan woman."

"It wasn't vanilla," Punk said reversing their positions, "you'll find there is nothing vanilla about sex with me. I was just letting you know how I like it."

"So, damn feisty when you're sex deprived," Jon flipped them over again, this time though they ran out of bed, neither of them noticed.

He had Punk exactly where he wanted him spread out on his back laughing. Jon leaned in and kissed him again. Punk tangled his hands in Jon's hair and effectively held him in place. Jon broke the kiss to taste those tattoos behind Punk's ear again.

"I'm a little old for sex on the floor," Punk laughed.

"Wouldn't dream of taking you on the floor," Jon said picking him up and putting him back on the bed, "wanna hear my bed creak for this one."

"You sure know how to get a guy with the romance," Punk said.

"I'm just saying," Jon said kissing Punk and effectively stopping him from grumbling distracting him all the while.

He broke the kiss, "Like I was saying legs up."

The smirk he received from Punk as he proceeded to pull his legs up so his feet were placed on the headboard. Jon was torn between gawking at the man's flexibility and getting a birds eye view of the piece of anatomy he'd been wanting to get up close and personal with. Slightly pink and pouting it was lovely like the rest of Punk, Jon turned his attentions to preparing Punk he slid on the condom first and sat back on his haunches, he lubed up both hands one of which he used to stroke Punk and draw more moans from him wiping away that impetuous smirk that he was currently wearing and the other to tease him before plunging inside.

Hearing the gasp that Punk gave made Jon smile, the second finger joined the first stretching and scissoring this was going to take special handling, Punk was so fucking tight, Jon wondered when was the last time he had vanilla sex with his vegan chick. By the third finger and steady jabs at his prostate Punk was pushing Jon's hand away from his cock.

"Too close," Punk told him.

"How long?"

"What?" Punk asked his gaze unfocused.

"Since you've been fucked," Jon clarified removing his fingers satisfied that Punk was prepared enough he pulled Punk's legs down and guided them around his waist and Punk brought his arms up around his neck.

"I broke up with Amy six months ago, so like a week before that," Punk said focusing on Jon with those lust filled eyes.

"Since you've been fucked like this?" Jon entered him with one long slow stroke hitting his prostate dead on.

"Can't remember," Punk whimpered.

If the sounds Punk had made when Jon was just teasing him were music to his ears, this was a fucking symphony. Jon balanced on his arms sure to angle each deep thrust to Punk's prostate.

"So fucking tight," Jon whispered Punk was gripping him like a vise just like he imagined.

"Just like that…" Punk instructed rocking back into Jon's fast deep thrusts.

Punk tangled his hands in Jon's hair directing his mouth to his neck, hearing the whines and whimpers from the man below him was bringing him closer to the edge. He resumed stroking Punk's length and stopped kissing his neck to look at him.

Beautifully ruined his body arching in pleasure, head thrown back his damp dark hair covering half his lovely face. Sweat running down his chest as he rocked to meet Jon's thrusts.

"You close baby?" Jon asked and he received a jerky nod in response and Punk clinging to him tighter climbing up onto him legs locking around him even tighter.

Jon did the only thing any rational person would do, he speed up his thrusts going harder and faster stroking Punk's cock to match their tempo, his mouth going back to that place on Punk's neck, this time it wasn't just soft suckles gentle bites this time he got his teeth in and it seemed to push Punk over the edge and his release coating Jon's fist and it seemed like he was cumming forever a screaming clenching mess slack beneath Jon. It was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen, a few stuttered thrusts later he too was reaching his peak.

They were both lying there panting Jon wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed that he'd spent himself so quickly or completely elated that Punk had let him fuck him for the first time. Jon pulled out and discarded the condom in the direction of the wastebasket and curled himself around Punk.

"That was amazing," Punk whispered turning in Jon's arms, "I've never…"

"I know," Jon whispered sex with Punk was unmatched, "me either."

"We're so doing that again," Punk told him, "this time with handcuffs."

"I know you're going to need a little recovery time," Jon said, "I intend to last a lot longer next go round."

"It doesn't matter how long you last if you can make me come like that again," Punk said, "and I think you can over and over again."

"Let's see how many times and ways, then," Jon kissed him again feeling his body respond to having Punk so near.

"I think you should get your handcuffs detective, I've been a bad boy," Punk said looking up at Jon through his lashes.

"If we're going to keep going I've got to get the AC fixed in here," Jon said.

"What do you have it set on?"

"Hell apparently," he said, "I thought Frisco was supposed to mild temps. This summer has been extremely hot."

"Lemme take a look at it and you get your handcuffs," Punk said getting out of bed and walking over to the window unit he played with it a little before he unplugged it, "you wouldn't happen to have a screwdriver?"

"I'll grab it it's in the kitchen, and I'll bring us some water," Jon said dropping the handcuffs on his ridiculously rumpled bed taking one look at Punk standing in front of the big window nude in the early morning light, his body covered with a light sheen of sweat his hair still damp from the shower his beautiful body accentuated by the lighting, Jon wanted to watch him all day. But he left in search of bottled water and a screwdriver he returned with two bottles of cold water and a screwdriver.

"It needs Freon, but there's a way around it," Punk explained once he'd gotten a hold of the screwdriver and tinkered with the unit a bit.

He put the cover back on, plugged it up and turned it back on, the air coming from it blowing his hair.

"How'd you do that?" Jon said, "It's already like five degrees cooler in here."

"My dad was an electrician," Punk shrugged, "he taught me a few things when he was sober."

"You thirsty?" Jon offered Punk a water which he took and downed about half of it.

Jon had nearly finished his own water while Punk was doing this thing with AC unit.

"Still down to play a round of bang the Punk?" Punk asked.

"Always," Jon said bringing their lips together once more.

* * *

><p>"Harder!" Punk cried his body rocking with the thrusts Jon was giving him ignoring the ringing of his own cell phone.<p>

Jon gripped his hips, "Do you want me to get that?"

The phone continued to ring.

"Don't stop," Punk panted focusing on keeping his hands clasped on the headboard didn't allow for him to be restrained with it so he had to stay still on his own.

Jon kissed his neck, "It's the third time it's rang and it went for a long time."

"Just fuck me harder," Punk turned his head a few inches so he could see Jon's face.

Jon changed his stroke hitting Punk's prostrate harder making Punk yelp, and meet his thrusts full on.

"You're wiggling too much," Jon pointed out delivering a firm swat on Punk's ass.

"Next time we do this in my bed," Punk said, "at least I can be restrained a little better."

The phone began ringing again.

"Fuck!" Punk cried as Jon latched back on to that abused spot on his neck.

"Sounds like it's an emergency," Jon said.

"Sounds like Cabana on some dumb shit," Punk pushed his hips back further to meet Jon's thrusts, "whoever it is I'll call them back soon, I'm so close. Touch me, fuck me, make me come!"

"Is that what you want baby?" Jon sped up his strokes and brought his hand back to Punk's neglected cock stroking it in time with his thrusts, Punk came collapsing against the headboard.

Jon came a few thrusts later he went back to the mark on Punk's neck sucking it again making Punk whimpepa*r again.

"You've outdone yourself this time," Punk said still feeling the after shocks as Jon pulled out, "You lasted longer and you still made me come just as hard."

"You were pretty good yourself," Jon said, "I'm sorry, I went all Twilight on your neck."

"It felt damn good," Punk said, "though it looks like Cabana is gonna have to douse me in concealer tonight."

Punk reached for his phone as Jon flopped down on the bed beside him. Punk groaned showing Jon his handcuffed arms. Jon smirked and reached for the key on the nightstand and unlocked the cuffs, Punk rubbed his wrists and smirked at Jon.

Punk looked at the missed calls noting that he was right it was Cabana. He shot him a text.

Cabana was just in protective mode, Punk had been gone from the club since four thirty and he hadn't come home yet. He let his friend know that he was okay and he was with Jon at his place.

"My Cabana is just worried," Punk grinned, "I never came home."

"That's very nice," Jon said, "I'm glad you have someone looking after you."

Jon kissed Punk's shoulder as he scanned over his text messages.

"I'm hungry," Punk said.

"I have no food," Jon said, "I was supposed to go grocery shopping yesterday but I got called in for the bullshit meth lab case. We can go out for breakfast."

"I wanna cook," Punk whined, "we can shower and go get food or go back to my place and cook I have

food."

"And you can let your Cabana know that you're alive and well," Jon said.

"But you still owe me an orgasm," Punk pouted his lips again, "and I can't in good conscious receive a mind blowing orgasm from you while my Cabana is downstairs moping over Trish after spending the last three hours wondering where in the hell I've been."

"What about I write out an official I owe you," Jon smirked, "you can cash it when you want."

"Whenever I want?" Punk asked, "whatever position I want?"

"Well," Jon said, "I guess…"

"And wherever I want?"

"So long it's not in too public of a venue, I work for the city after all," Jon said, "I don't really have any other skills other than being a cop."

"I can get you an audition at the club," Punk grinned.

Jon kissed him, "I don't think I'm cut out for life on the stage. I'm not much of a dancer."

"But the things you can do with your hips though," Punk whispered climbing out of bed, "we gonna shower or what?"

"We'll shower," Jon said.

Punk liked the shower in Jon's loft, and the two person tub looked pretty interesting, but he was more interested in the shower, the water pressure was fucking amazing, like standing under a personal waterfall. Punk started the water and Jon pressed him against the shower wall and kissed him under the spray of water one hand coming to rest on Punk's hip the other cupping his cheek softly.

"I'm never gonna get tired of that," Jon panted.

"Me either," Punk said, "we've got to stay on task, shower, clean up the mess we made in your room then to my place for food."

"Well, you need to stop being so damn sexy then," Jon smirked.

Jon managed to stay on task despite the fact that Punk was intentionally trying to turn him on while he cleaned up, he didn't want to cash in his favor but if something happened in the shower that resulted in sex he wouldn't turn it down.

"Where do you keep clean sheets?" Punk asked once he was dressed in just his jeans and sneakers.

"Hall closet," Jon was discarding the condoms, and cleaning the mess Punk had made on the head board.

Punk came in with some wine colored sheets, with a raised eyebrow.

"I got them at the Target don't judge me," Jon said.

"I'm just surprised you have more than one set," Punk said, "I found what four sets in there."

"I don't have a washer and dryer, and I don't want to trek my ass all over the city for a decent laundry mat because I rubbed one out and it got a little messy," Jon said.

"How many times have you rubbed one out thinking about me?" Punk asked watching Jon blush.

"More times than I should probably tell you," Jon told him, "it might get weird."

"It's cool," Punk said walking over to the other side of the bed and putting the fitted sheet on that side, Jon grabbed the sheet from his side and put it on his corner then they both walked down to the foot and put it on the corners of that end, "it's not like I haven't gotten off to the thought of you once or a hundred times."

Then they spread out the top sheet tucked under at the foot, then put the discarded down comforter back on the bed.

"That just felt so damn domestic," Jon said.

"Exactly what I was aiming for," Punk said.

Punk put on his shirt Jon was already dressed and taking his time putting on his shoes just watching Punk in a way that was going to lead to him cashing in his favor which might leave him completely sexually satisfied but not without his stomach growling.

Jon locked his apartment and followed Punk to his car where he was tossed the keys, Punk settled himself in the passenger seat before Jon could come and open up the door for him like he was some prissy bitch who needed his man to open doors and pull out chairs and pay for shit. He just needed Jon to be Jon to be there for him listen to him and never stop fucking him like he had this morning.

"What are you thinking about baby?" Jon asked throwing the car in reverse.

"You," Punk said honestly.

"At least you're not frowning," Jon said, "Can I dare ask what you were thinking?"

"Just promise me that whatever happens you won't change, that you won't stop being this distractible, intense, amazing, you that you are…"

"I won't change," Jon said, "if you won't change. Promise that you'll keep being this bossy little, bendy, guarded, amazing person that you are."

"I promise," Punk said.


	9. Chapter Seven

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

It had been a week since the first time they'd had sex, six weeks since they met and five since they'd started dating. Jon was getting pretty comfortable with the whole arrangement, the sex was inventive the conversations were always entertaining, and everything about Punk was so intriguing. Including his love of the horror genre, while Jon was actually more into classic movies. Fake blood spewing out of corpses was not his thing, but was sure to get him a lap full of Punk which was something Jon would be out of his mind to turn down.

So they made plans a scary movie marathon in the middle of the day after Jon had gotten off work and trekked over to the video store, he'd rented the first five Friday the thirteenth movies and he'd brought ice cream because he'd gotten a bizarre text from Punk about how it had been a while since he'd watched the series and that he was cleaning and deserved a sweet treat.

He found Punk upstairs half naked going through a bunch of stripper clothes. He'd started cleaning and couldn't resist trying on some of his old stage outfits. Jon had to put up the ice cream and tell Punk which ones looked best and really Jon couldn't decide, the skimpy costumes on Punk all looked great though some of the themes were borderline ridiculous. Jon was really into the cowboy costume, and he was growing fond of the cave man costume.

"You said you wanted ice cream and a movie," Jon said growing tired of Punk dressing up and not letting him play.

"Just one more," Punk whined from in the closet of the spare room that housed his addiction to skimpy costumes.

Punk stepped out in black leather or it could have very well been latex, and cat ears, "I didn't bother with the face paint. What do you think of this one?"

Jon took in how the material hugged every inch of Punk's frame, "How do you even manage to take something like that off? Wait a minute how in the hell did you get into it."

"I've got an escape hatch," Punk grinned.

"Now I'm curious," Jon said.

"Come here," Punk said Jon stood rising from the bed and stepped closer to Punk, who sighed and put Jon's arms around his waist an then moved his hand higher his fingers brushing over a zipper, "usually I left that undone."

"Oh, I see," Jon said.

"A little help," Punk said looking up imploringly at Jon.

Jon slid the zipper up never breaking eye contact.

"I'm going to need a little bit more help than that unless I do the choreography I don't remember how to get out of this one," Punk said.

Jon helped Punk out of the costume, his boyfriend kissed him quick then pushed him out of the closet, "Just one more."

"I'm not sure I believe you, I believe you said the same phrase three outfits ago," Jon said, "I'm not real sure if this is foreplay to you, but I'm getting pretty worked up seeing you in your work clothes."

Punk smirked, he stopped digging through a box to meet Jon's eyes, "I intend to get rid of some of these and I need to know which ones I should salvage, I'm using your boner like a compass to point me in the

right direction of what to keep. This is the last one I promise, and you will be rewarded for your assistance."

"Rewarded," Jon said sitting on the bed with a grin, "I like the sound of that."

Punk had chosen another outfit and this one was by far Jon's favorite, a skimpy cop outfit, the top shredded artfully and held together by safety pins, and the pants were shorts that were pretty short and quite tight. Those beautiful legs on display had Jon's mouth watering.

"I had a feeling you'd like this one," Punk stepped toward him.

"You gonna dance for me?" Jon asked.

"If you want," Punk said.

"As sexy as you are in that I just want you, no costumes no bells and whistles," Jon said.

"Alright," Punk started shedding clothes until he was down to his black thong, "if you want me come and get me. Cabana is due home any moment from his first therapy session with Trish."

"We should hurry then," Jon said pulling Punk into his arms.

Punk grabbed him and kissed him pulling him into the closet with him.

"It's fortunate that I'm always prepared," Punk said as he directed Jon's hand to slip down the curve of his ass and push his thong aside finding him already lubed for him.

"I'd say it's not a coincidence," Jon said, "now if only I had condom."

"It is a coincidence that I have this?" Punk produced a condom and going back to kissing Jon's neck.

"You're sneaky, would this be you cashing in your favor?"

"Nope," Punk said undoing the buttons on Jon's shirt, "this would be you and me having a little afternoon delight."

Jon was completely out of his element enthralled by this side of Punk. Wanting to undress him, going after his neck this time. He moaned out loud and it spurred Punk on further he was all but tearing off Jon's belt.

"You're going to make me dessert too?" Jon asked thinking about the song and pastry it was named for.

"That was clearly about a nooner, not a dessert, but if you want I can make you the dessert," Punk said his hands sliding over Jon's chest and stomach, "something with apples I think."

"I always thought that song was about apple delight," Jon whispered as Punk pulled him into another kiss.

"Less talking," Punk whispered against Jon's lips, "I've got better use for that mouth."

"Fucking hell, I like the sound of that," Jon quickly shed his shirt and resumed what Punk had started on his belt.

Punk grinned and shed his thong though it wasn't doing much to hide his erection. Jon dropped to his knees.

* * *

><p>Punk threaded his fingers through Jon's hair half leaning against the wall he was gasping for breath, Jon was relentless, Punk wasn't sure whether he was going to buck up into his mouth or grind himself down to bring his fingers deeper inside. Punk was enjoying the sight of his boyfriend kneeling in front of him, his lips stretched wide around his length his right hand moving with the gentle thrusts of his fingers and his left hand working his own length.<p>

"Why are you so good at everything?" Punk whimpered, "I'm so close!"

Jon pulled off and Punk was not pleased that the dual sensations stopped, and there was the sound of a wrapper opening then Jon was picking him up and he had no choice but wind his arms and legs around him.

"You should hold onto something," Jon said just before he entered him with one strong thrust.

He guided Punk to the wall, and Punk grabbed onto the hanger rack, "I'm too heavy."

"You're perfect," Jon told him, "I can take it. Can you?"

"Oh," Punk said moans falling as Jon changed his stroke, "more."

Jon resumed stroking Punk's length, "Are you close baby?"

"Yes!" Punk shouted.

"Lemme hear you," Jon's hand sped up and so did his hips.

Punk's pleasure reached new heights, he kissed his lover and allowed himself to go over the edge. Jon followed soon after, the two of them landing in a heap on the floor, Punk still holding on to the broken hanger rod laughing loudly.

"Amazing," Jon replied kissing Punk's neck.

"I don't know what it is about us, but I've never felt anything like that," Punk gasped.

"Me either," Jon said, "I think we broke your closet."

"Shower?" Punk asked panting, "my water pressure isn't as great as at your place but we should get clean unless you want to get dirty and go another round."

They got cleaned up though Punk tried his best to talk Jon in to another round, but Cabana was pulling into the driveway soon it was nearing five thirty. Punk was downstairs long before Jon, wearing his yoga clothes which consisted of some modest biker shorts and tank top he pulled his wet hair up into a ponytail, he suspected Jon was doing more than getting his clothes from the spare room he was probably trying to figure out how to put back up the hanger rod that Punk had broken without him knowing.

"Smells like apples," Jon reported breezing into the kitchen.

"I'm making a cobbler the closest I could come to the delight you were talking about," Punk said dropping cinnamon and brown sugar on the sautéed apple slices, "you're not allergic to cinnamon are you?"

"Not allergic to anything," Jon said.

"Good," Punk turned and kissed him quick, "now we should separate because I'm not entirely sure what kind of mood Cabana will be in when he comes through."

Jon nodded just as the door leading into the laundry room opened.

"Aw honey you baked," Cabana said with a cheerful smile as he breezed through the kitchen, in a completely different attitude from what Punk expected.

He frowned watching his friend venture through the kitchen.

"How'd time on the couch with headshrinker go?" Jon asked and Punk elbowed him.

"It wasn't my first rodeo," Cabana said, "you didn't tell him, Punkers, about the time my well meaning parents dragged me and you to therapy when they thought we were dating?"

"You're holding out on me," Jon said hopping up on the counter.

"They wanted to be sure that they were as open as possible to me loving another man and they decided that therapy would ease that transition," Cabana said.

"He comes from one of _those_ families," Punk explained, "you know the type the well meaning do-gooder type though his mother was a little disappointed that I'm not Jewish."

"She left the offer open to convert," Cabana shrugged.

"But you're not gay," Jon said.

"I keep trying to tell them that," Cabana said, "but here I am almost thirty-"

"You're twenty eight," Punk sneered, "it's me who is nearly thirty."

Cabana ignored him, "With no wife to speak of and no children, why would she believe otherwise, I've got two degrees and I work at a gay bar and live with a gay man in a house that's decorated."

Jon laughed, "None of those things make you gay."

"None of those things have worked in getting me a lady friend that sticks around for more than a month," Cabana said raiding the fridge.

"How did it really go with Trish?"

"She was being evasive and the session got nowhere," Cabana reported, "the shrink is a real hard ass."

"Do you wanna know what I think?" Punk asked he'd had enough of the whole mess with Trish and Cabana.

"What do you think?" Cabana asked.

"This is your mess," Punk shouted setting his supplies on the counter with a bang, "man up and ask that big titty bitch out! No unsigned love notes, flowers with no cards, no more feeling her up, be direct look her in the eye and ask her to dinner, not lunch, not a business dinner. Take her out pay for dinner and be nice walk her to her door and kiss the hell out of her!"

"She isn't into me at all," Cabana said, "if I do that I'm definitely getting fired and then a restraining order in that order."

"She pulled up her fucking skirt and literally showed you her ass," Jon said, "chicks don't fucking do that for the hell of it. Unless she wanted you to get that feel. Do you wonder what would have happened had you been alone with her?"

"I can't let myself think that," Cabana said walking away and disappearing upstairs.

"You broke him," Punk tapped Jon on the arm.

"I…I…"

Punk laughed, "I'm playing, he's just in a funk. I know what will fix him. But I'm going to need you to get me a few things. I'm going to need a few things. I'm going to need some stuff for pizza dough. I'll write down all I need. I've got to make him his favorite pie like back home."

"Why can't we call Pizza Hut, I'll pay?"

"Pizza Hut won't a broken Cabana fix," Punk said, going in the drawer for a pen and pad he wrote down what he needed, "plus I'm in a cooking mood."

"You can take Rocket," Punk said, before going rooting in another drawer and looking for his wallet.

"I got this one," Jon said kissing him quick, "you gave me an expected kind of afternoon delight."

Jon left and returned in record time with everything Punk had requested just as he was finishing the sauce and had the cobbler in the stove.

"That smells awesome," Jon kissed Punk on the cheek and set everything on the counter.

"How are you with chopping onions?"

"They make me cry," Jon said.

"Me too," Punk said.

Jon washed his hands and went to work on the onions and Punk chopped the meat and rolled the dough for two pies. He laid the sauce the a layer of cheese, meat and veggies. Then another layer of cheese and meat and veggies then they joined the cobbler in the oven.

"While we wait on dinner we can start the first movie," Punk said smiling at Jon, "it won't take me but a second to do the salad. Once Cabana smells the food he'll come out of hiding."

"You think so, I might have went to far," Jon said.

"You were right and I coddle him too much as it is," Punk said, "maybe he'll take it to heart from you rather than from me."

Jon ventured into the living room and Punk started the DVD, Jon took to the couch and Punk wrapped himself around Jon.

"Today has felt amazingly domestic," Punk told him.

"I know," Jon said as Cabana reemerged.

"Is that?"

"Yes, Cabana, it is," Punk said, "you know I hate to see you sad, and I knew Angelos is the best way to cheer you up."

"Are you going to take any of the things we said to heart?" Jon asked.

"I thought about it," Cabana said, "after we have dinner together I'm going down there. I know she's at the bar, she and Amy always clean on Friday afternoons before opening."

"Good luck man," Jon said.

"I'm gonna need it," Cabana said.

Punk got up washed his hands again he took out the pizzas and dessert then he made the salad.

Cabana set the table and Jon got out drinks.

"Have you decided what you're going to say to her?" Jon asked once they were around the table.

"I'm going to ask her to dinner," Cabana said, "if she says yes, I'm going to lay all my cards on the table, I'm going to tell her I'm in love with her."

"Finally!" Punk sighed loading his plate with mostly salad, and one slice of pizza Jon put two more on Punk's plate and offered him a smile.

"This is amazing," Jon said eating a slice of his own and ignoring Punk's glare.

"Punkers is a good cook gonna make someone a good little wife one day," Cabana said.

Punk fought down a blush, "Fuck you Cabana."

"Not gay remember," Cabana said, "Here I thought Jon boy was giving you all the fucking you can stand."

"What?" Punk sputtered, "I never said we were fucking."

"You've got a glow about you," Cabana said, "it's cute. I can't remember the last time you've gotten laid the right way."

"Maybe you'll start getting laid after tonight," Jon said.

"Fingers crossed," Cabana smiled before he headed out.

When they'd finished dinner Jon offered to do the dishes and Punk conceded that they do them together.

"I should get going," Jon said, "you have to go to work soon."

"We have time for like two more movies," Punk said, "stay with me, please. I won't make you watch any more scary movies. I don't think you like them much. We can watch something else. Or you can just hold me."

"There is nothing I'd like more than to just hold you," Jon said, "right after we make love. I don't just want to fuck you Punk I want to make love to you. I love hearing you scream making you come. I love you Punk…I've never said that to anyone. I don't need you to say anything back I just need you let me love you."

Punk didn't say anything, he let Jon lead him upstairs. He'd never been really loved not in the way Jon had promised, and he was more than little sure that he loved Jon the same way.


	10. Chapter Eight

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

Jon bucked his hips and tried to silence a scream building up in his throat, he'd woken up to find Punk's soft lips ghosting over the tip of his length. He pulled the covers back to find that it was Punk delivering an interesting wake up call. Once he was satisfied with how wet he'd made it.

"Do you know what today is?" Punk pulled off to stroke him.

"Seven weeks since we met," Jon said, "tomorrow will be six weeks since the first time you let me kiss you."

"Correct," Punk returned to his previous position.

Jon moved Punk's hair around so he could see him work.

"How was work?" Jon whimpered.

Punk pulled off again stroking the length with his hand.

"Do you wanna make small talk or come?" Punk asked.

"Both," Jon said, "I'm trying to hold back from doing one of those things right now. I was having a dream about you doing this very same thing."

"Well, lemme make your dreams come true," Punk said sucking him down again as he stroked himself the pace in which Punk tried to get Jon off became more frantic the close he got to his own orgasm the whines and whimpers vibrating his whole body.

Punk pulled off swallowing and then going for a tissue and then some water.

"You're so amazing baby," Jon was smiling at Punk.

"You're amazing yourself," Punk said.

"Come here," Jon said pulling Punk close.

"I love you too," Punk whispered rubbing Jon's bare chest, "I don't want you to think I'm buttering you up because I want something, but I do want something."

"Whatever you want it's yours," Jon said burying his face in Punk's hair.

"Well, tonight there's this thing at the club, it's a little last minute, it's for Seth's birthday," Punk said.

"His birthday is in May," Jon said, "it's nearly July."

"I know but his parents and his sisters just got back and they wanna celebrate with him," Punk said, "it's his unbirthday party it'll have an fair tale theme."

"Like a slutty Wonderland party with him as Alice?"

"No, he's gonna be the Mad Hatter," Punk said.

Jon smirked, "Are you asking me to help set up or do you want me to be your escort to the party?"

"I'm asking for both, I was hoping the wake up Lewinsky would turn the tide in my favor," Punk smirked.

"It did that," Jon said, "wait I'm not gonna have to wear a costume for this am I?"

Punk laughed.

* * *

><p>"I love you baby," Jon said, "I'll see you tonight, okay?"<p>

"I love you too…" Punk kissed him and then watched him walk out the door, Joe was parked in the driveway waiting for him.

They pulled out just as Cabana was pulling in, it was well after eleven am, pretty unlikely for Cabana but he'd had the big talk with Trish and since they were both still pretty much suspended from work until they resolved their issues.

The smile on his friend's face said all Punk needed to know.

"Hola, Punkers," Cabana said coming and picking up and twirling Punk around.

"I take it everything went well with Trish?"

"It did, I walked up to her while she was sweeping and I asked her to go to dinner with me," Cabana said, "I told her it was a date. She said she'd go out with me on the condition that I find a new job and train a new bartender because if we were to date it would be conflict of interest."

"Surprised she knows what that means," Punk said, "she's fucked like half the bouncers."

"She's fucked them," Cabana said, "there was no fucking tonight, we just talked. We went to the park and had ice cream and played like children. It was great then I took her home when she saw it was morning I walked her to the door and kissed her."

"Fireworks?"

"Fireworks? It was a nuclear explosion," Cabana said.

"I'm glad you're in a good mood," Punk said, "I need help with my costume. I just finished my nap and I've only got a bit of time before I'm due at the club I just got a text from Seth he's coming over. I'm gonna have to make appetizers and you my friend are helping him with gift bags."

"What no, where's Jonny B. Good?"

Punk laughed, "He's with Joe and Joe's cousins doing the heavy lifting."

"So nap is code for doing the nasty?" Cabana asked.

"We were actually sleeping," Punk said a small smile gracing his features.

"I can't believe that," Cabana said.

"We did last night though," Punk said.

"How was it?"

"Are you sure you wanna hear about that?" Punk asked.

"Lets work on your costume, and you can tell me all about it," Cabana said, "you know I love the gay telanovela your life is."

"I was thinking of going as a fabulous evil queen, I have a lot of leather I'll just need help with the head piece," Punk said, "So you might have a bit of sewing to do, I've got a bunch those little stick on crystals."

Cabana laughed and the two of them headed upstairs, "I'm just going to wear my mechanic clothes and say I'm one of the seven dwarfs."

The hardest part of the costume was the head piece, which Punk cut carefully, artfully shredding the black velvet carefully before passing it to Cabana who was sitting at the sewing machine ready with headband covered in the sliver lace that had been taken from one of the doilies his mother had made to go on the couch as house warming and both Punk and Colt agreed that it would make the place look super gay and they should only bring it out when she came to visit.

Punk tried on the leather pants and the matching jacket with exaggerated peplums at the hip, underneath he wore a tank top and a the black lace vest with the finished headpiece once he'd attached the crystals.

"You look hot Punkers," Cabana said, "makes me feel bad I'm not gay, you're quite the prize. Jon doesn't realize how lucky he is to have you."

"I'm the lucky one Cabana," Punk told him, "I've never felt this way before. And it's not just the sex which is nothing like I've ever felt before."

"You're in love," Cabana said, "I can see it all over you, I'm happy for you. I approve of this one."

* * *

><p>Jon went home to change after he'd moved the tables in the club and set up everything to be decorated which he and Joe ended up setting up the decorations under the supervision of Colby's mom who was not at all what they'd expected but meeting him explained a lot of the man's behavior. He hadn't known Colby was adopted but it seemed Colby had been one of the lucky ones, he'd gotten a crazy family but they were the fun kind of crazy.<p>

His mother was African American, she smoked like a freight train and insisted everyone call her mama Jackie. His father was white, cursed like a sailor and started his own beer tab while they put up the decorations. Then the sisters showed up. The twins were taken with them immediately, Jonathan who they simply called J was trying to make conversation with Trinity the chocolate skinned sister who had showed up an hour before the party dressed like the Cheshire Cat. Josh tried his luck with both Victoria and Arianne the youngest. Arianne was not receptive, she kept trying to make a play for Jon who had told her he didn't swing that way but Vicky seemed interested in him. The oldest sister Natalie was pretty cool she helped moved tables and didn't seem to be afraid of getting her hands dirty with the set up.

"We're going to go get dressed," Joe said.

"I'm gonna do the same right after I have a drink, Steve honey would you fix me a drink," Mama Jackie said.

"It's been fix me this do that Steve," the man said, "I need a minute woman."

"Well you ain't got a minute," Mama Jackie said.

"Well, I'm out of here," Jon said.

"I'm with you boy," Joe said, "J am I gonna have to pry you off that girl?"

J and Josh came bounding after them.

"Trinity is so fine did you see that ass?"

"I saw it," Josh said, "it was a little too much for me. You like them ole thick ass girls it gets you in trouble every time."

"Well, you like the crazy ones and she always ends up two seconds away from cutting you or setting your shit on fire," J said.

They went and picked up their costumes, Jon got a call from Punk and decided he was going to swing by Punk's house to change. Joe dropped off the twins and picked up Colby when he dropped off Jon and Punk's place along with all the gift bags and half the food.

* * *

><p>The day with Seth was illuminating, Punk opened himself up to Seth and the two toned haired man did the same thing in return. Seth gave Punk his real name, and Punk did the same. Only a handful of people knew his name was Phil. Trish, Adam, Amy, Jon and now Seth or well Colby knew his true name.<p>

The party was in full swing with a hundred or so people dancing talking celebrating while Colby was the preening belle of the ball when Punk stepped into the party on the arm of Prince Charming, Jon who was looking beautifully dapper in his costume. He'd shown up after Punk and Colby had finished making the food for the party. Trish had stopped by to help Cabana and Colby with gift bags they finished quickly and then they left to go get her costume.

Colby's sisters whom he'd met earlier in the day were on the dance floor. All of them were so beautiful, and so different, all of them adopted by a mismatched couple whose only common bond was their infertility and their love for their five children. Steve was a Caucasian bald Texan with bad temper, Jackie was an African American bossy quick witted and loved her children fiercely and insisted everyone call her Mama Jackie.

Natalie, was a short powerfully built blonde she had a kind down to earth way about her that Punk enjoyed. The second oldest Victoria was a tall brash caramel skinned redhead who tried her hand at flirting with him. Trinity was the middle child, the voice of reason, chocolate skinned with a bubbly personality and an ass Punk could have sworn was fake but Colby assured him it was real. Colby was the fourth child he was spoiled rotten just like his younger sister Arianne the caramel skinned blonde princess.

They had a twerk contest, which Natalie and Ziggler lost in astonishing fashion. Punk ended up losing Trinity who had a lot more junk in the trunk than he had. Jon was waiting for him after the contest. Colby came and found them and brought them drinks.

"What in the hell is Ziggler even wearing?" Punk asked.

In true Ziggler fashion Dolph was wearing a mesh witch costume that was completely see thru with a black thong underneath.

"He's wearing Thirst Couture," Colby said, "and I thought I was dressed slutty."

Colby was wearing tight black pants high boots a colorful no shirt high boots and a paisley jacket with a top hat.

"That's actually modest for you," Punk observed.

"I can't be having my ass hanging out my mama and them are here," Jon said in his best Colby voice.

Punk laughed.

"Assholes," Colby said, "all yall is just jealous because I looks damn good in my slutty clothes. And I would have won that twerk off my thigh hadn't cramped up."

With that Colby was stalking away.

Punk and Jon laughed silently. A slow song came on, and Jon pulled him close, all of the couples were on the dance floor. Adam was actually dancing with Arianne and seemingly having a good time, Colby's parents were dancing the twin cousins of Joe were slow dancing with Trinity and Victoria. Natalie was slow dancing with one of Joe's friends from the station.

"So you do dance," Punk said winding himself around Jon as they swayed to the music.

"Not like you do," Jon said, "a slow dance is the best I can pull out of my bag of tricks."

"I didn't think I'd have this much fun today," Punk conceded.

"It has been a great day since I got that special wake up call," Jon said.

The doors opened as Punk was facing the exit and a young blonde stumbled in he recognized him instantly. Her too pale shaking form had him wrenching himself from Jon's arms.

"Celeste?"

"Punk?" she squinted at him just before her eyes rolled back and she collapsed in his arms.

"Get Trish and Adam now," Punk told Jon before he could ask any questions.


	11. Chapter Nine

**Title:** Chasing the Moon

**Author: **Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

"What happened?" the pretty blonde man asked, Jon's first look at Adam had him brimming with jealousy.

Adam was lovely, green his soft blonde waves framing his face big pouty lips. Jon understood whatever attraction Punk had to him, especially in his Peter Pan costume, he was especially gorgeous. The concern in his eyes over his little sister was heartbreaking and Jon couldn't really be jealous right now, not when they were at the hospital.

"I don't know," Punk said tearfully as he held tight to Trish who'd completely broken down, "she walked in then she collapsed. I…I saw track marks on her arm. She's been shooting up."

"She would never do that!" Adam shouted.

"That's what the doctor said Addy," Trish mumbled against Punk's shoulder from where they were huddled on a couch in the waiting room, "They said she'd been shooting cocaine."

"She would never do that," Adam repeated.

"You know she's been on her own since mom remarried," Trish sniffled, "we've had our own lives, and she was so much younger."

"She was doing well at school, graduated at the top of her class, she's got a degree we sent her off to Europe with her friends to celebrate," Adam said, "she's supposed to seeing the world. Enjoying her life."

"She's not," Punk said softly.

"We'll know something soon," Jon said, "I know the doctor pretty well. I'll go talk to him."

"Thank you Jon," it was Punk who grabbed his hand but Adam who had spoke.

"Did you get a hold of Amy? She'd want to know about this?" Trish was on her phone.

"Is that Cabana?" Punk asked.

"Yeah, he's bringing Amy here from the animal clinic she had a surgery that ran late," Trish explained.

"I'll come with you to talk to the doctor," Punk said standing up and releasing Trish, "I can't just sit here any longer."

Adam nodded.

"Take care of your sister," Punk said.

Adam nodded he was looking at Punk in that hungry way and Jon sighed before stalking away. Jon was surprised he'd been resisting his base instinct to beat the pretty boy bloody for looking at his Punk that way. The pretty fucker had his chance and he squandered it. Those feelings returned the one's Jon had tried to snuff out his whole life. Those feelings of inadequacy, standing next to Punk's ex made Jon feel less like Prince Charming and more like a Frog.

"I am so sorry," Punk whispered, "this has got to be awkward for you and you've been such a prince for accepting it, like it was normal."

"Not your fault," Jon said, "emotions are running high."

"It's been so long since I've even been in the same orbit as Adam," Punk said.

"I believe you," Jon said.

"Not an hour and thirty minutes ago I was so happy," Punk said.

Jon nodded.

"You have to know," Punk said, "you're the only one I want. The only one I need and I need you to know that."

Jon nodded, "You're the one I want too Punk. I should go, let you have this time with them this is too awkward."

"Stay," Punk whispered, "I need you here."

Jon pulled him close.

Cabana arrived with a blubbering red head Jon assumed was Amy who collapsed into Adam when she arrived.

* * *

><p>Punk spent the night on an uncomfortable waiting room couch wrapped around Jon, worried for the young woman in intensive care. He'd grown pretty close to Celeste while he was with Adam. He was thoroughly worried about what would happen to her. She was too young for addiction to take her she had so much going for her.<p>

Colby and Joe had agreed to shut the club down for them, the party came to a screeching halt as soon as Adam and Trish saw Celeste.

"I can feel you thinking," Jon's trailed a finger down Punk's cheek.

"I am worried about her," Punk whispered.

"Layla was pretty confident that she'd be waking up in a bit, they pumped her stomach and vitals are good," Jon said.

"How do you know Dr. El?"

"She worked with me on a case when I first arrived to town," Jon said, "she's stunningly beautiful, but so deep in the closet she's in Narnia."

Punk laughed, "How do you know that?"

"I caught her checking out her nurse, called her on it and she clammed up and offered to do whatever she could to help me in any investigation if I kept her secret," Jon said, "I told her it wasn't leverage and she shouldn't be ashamed."

"You're lovely, even all scrunched up still half wearing that costume," Jon said.

"It's fucking hot in here, usually it's freezing at the hospital," Punk pointed out this heat wave is making me nuts."

"You feeling turned on all the time too baby?" Jon whispered.

"I thought it was a side effect from being so close to you," Punk said.

"I deserve credit but not that much," Jon grinned, "I don't have hair like a field of gold or eyes of emerald green."

"Did you quote Jolene a little bit?" Punk asked, "Are you worried that I'm not over Adam."

"He's beautiful Punk," Jon said, "he's got piles of money. He's got his shit together. You have history with him."

"I don't want that life," Punk said, "I want you."

Punk kissed him hard, "You feel that don't you."

"I do," Jon said, "Get a bit asleep."

"I'll try," Punk said.

"I'll have to be a comfier pillow then," Jon smiled down at him.

Morning came and Punk hadn't slept much, Dr. El had gathered them together.

"She's resting comfortably, she should come out of it soon," Dr. El said.

"Can we see her?" Trish asked wrapped around Cabana.

"One at a time, when she wakes you'll be able to go in threes," Dr. El said.

Trish nodded.

"We have something else to talk about," Jon said pulling Punk aside, "when she wakes I'll have to arrest her, she won't get much time, she barely had enough cocaine on her for a hit. But I'm gonna have to arrest her. Joe saw it the little foil packet she had clutched in her hand. If I don't he will."

"What?" Punk asked.

"I've got to bring her in for possession," Jon said, "she probably won't get any time, rehab probably, end up in a posh sober house in Beverly Hills."

"She needs her family right now," Punk said, "that's how shit got so screwed up for her in the first place and she ended up overdosing."

"We won't take her in till she's released," Jon said, "they'll bond her out, she'll go before the judge, he'll order a trial, she'll come back in like a couple of weeks and be sentenced. She won't lose her family."  
>"Do you think it's going to help her?" Punk asked pulling on the lapels of Jon's jacket.<p>

"Do you know how long she's been using?"

"I have seen her since last Thanksgiving," Punk said, "I get the occasional text from her, I had no idea she was using."

"I think it will help her," Jon said, "I'm going to let Trish and Adam know what I'm doing before I do it. So it won't be a surprise."

Punk nodded.

"I'm going to do that now, then I'm gonna take you home, you didn't even close your eyes tonight," Jon told him.

"I'm not tired," Punk shook his head and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Well, let's go shower then and bring food to the others." Jon said.

Pun conceded then, timidly following Jon down the hallway.

Trish and Amy were in the ICU waiting room where they'd left them.

"I know it's shitty timing," Jon started.

"They told me Celeste had drugs on her," Amy cut to the chase, "you're a cop you've got to take her in."

"We understand," Trish said, "it'll be the only way to get the point across to her. We should have paid more attention should have let her go to school here."

"She'll get hardly any time, she'll probably have to pay a fine and do community service after completing her days in rehab," Jon said.

"Anything to help her, we all know we haven't if anything we've enabled her, I wired her seven thousand dollars when she called me last week," Trish said.

"Did you find anything else in her bags?"

"There was just one bag we found outside with her guitar. Other than a few wrinkled pairs of jeans and tank tops there was nothing there," Trish said.

"And her guitar?" Jon asked.

"I brought it in," Trish said sheepishly, "I started learning when I was in high school she was a little girl about seven, she picked it up easily naturally, I was admittedly distracted by the things that seventeen year old girls are distracted by…she ended up taking the lessons I was having. I never learned."

Trish laughed, "I was going to play a song for her, her favorite. But I don't remember the few chords I learned back then."

"I play a bit but first I need to see the guitar make sure there's nothing else stashed in there," Jon said.

"It's in my car," Trish said.

"I'll go get it," Amy said.

"It's in the trunk," Trish said.

"We'll walk you out," Punk said surprised at how well Amy and Trish were taking this.

"Sorry, I haven't really introduced myself yet," Jon said following Amy's lead while Punk dragged behind them.

"I've seen you around," Amy said the smirk in her voice evident.

"You were watching the feed," Punk said softly, "The time I gave him a VIP dance."

"I'm glad you've found someone Punk," Amy said, "I didn't want to make things weird."

"Things are weird enough," Jon admitted, "I met Adam last night before all the drama."

"He's stunning isn't he?" Amy said, "good thing is though he doesn't know it. The exact same thing I like about our Punkers here."

Punk chewed his lower lip as Amy opened Trish's trunk. Inside was an old acoustic guitar Jon inspected it shaking it feeling for parts where drugs could be stashed before shaking it to see if anything would fall out and he found nothing.

"It's clear," Jon reported.

Punk sighed, "I'm glad."

They made their way back inside the hospital, Jon disappeared down a hallway to call his captain. Colby showed up with Mama Jackie both of them with a ton of food and lightening the heavy blanket of misery that had settled over them.

"A uniformed officer will come and guard the room," Jon explained once he returned to the group, "We haven't mad an arrest yet, but once she wakes we will."

Trish nodded.

Adam came down the hall from Celeste's room, "What's going on?"

"Because she had drugs on her we'll have to take her in, she'll be charged and sentenced, but she won't get anytime. Just mandatory rehab and community service," Jon said, "I didn't want to, but I had to."

"Like hell you did," Adam roared, "you did that because you wanted to."

"It's for her own good," Trish said, "neither of us have the heart to chastise her and mom's off lying on some surgeons table and dad's been dead three years."

"We can get her back on the right track without this," Adam said.

"She won't get much time if any," Jon said, "she'll probably have court mandated rehab and community service."

"No," Adam said.

"Adam, please," Punk said, "it could be for the best. You didn't see her when she walked in…I hardly recognized her. It's like something has been eating away at her."

"Because it is," Trish said, "We will fix this, but I think this is how we have to do it."

"Jon is just doing his job," Amy agreed.

"He's insecure about his relationship with Punk and he wants to show his power," Adam said.

"I'm done dealing with this shit," Jon said, "I was a little taken aback when I met you. But that's gone now. I'm sure about how I feel about Punk. He says he's all in with me and that's all I need insecurities aside. I am doing my job and saving your sister's life in the process. Now I'm going home to shower and change I'll be back later hopefully you've taken your head out of your ass."

Jon strode off then. Punk followed him leaving behind a fuming Adam a smirking Amy and Trish opening and closing her mouth like a carp.

Punk made it inside the elevator with Jon just as the doors were closing.

"I'm sorry," Punk said.

"It's not your fault," Jon said jabbing the buttons with his fingers, "I was scared you weren't coming with me."

Punk stepped close to him, gazing into his blue eyes, "I'd never let you go alone. Not after that."

"You're so amazing," Jon said cupping Punk's cheek.

"Have some faith in me," Punk whispered, "you said you'd catch me if I let myself fall. I'll catch you too."

Jon kissed him then, one of those movie kisses that Punk was sure was reserved for some princess in a movie nothing he imagined receiving from Jon but it made him feel something he hadn't felt before.

The doors opened and Jon pulled away taking Punk by the hand. They ran into Cabana on the bottom floor of the hospital.

"Do I wanna go in there?"

"No," Jon said, "but your girl is in there, so you'd better."

"What happened?"

"Adam," Punk sighed.

"Naturally," Cabana said.

"He accused me of being insecure," Jon said, "I'll show him insecure."

Jon was red in the face at the mention of Adam he was clearly still pretty pissed but to Punk had expected it to be explosive when Jon lost it, the more his control started to slip the more intriguing Punk found the situation. He liked this side of him, this wild side. Jon was usually so in control when he dealt with Punk.

"I'd like to see someone go in there and kick his ass," Cabana said dryly, "him and his perfect teeth and soap star hair. It's not fair to us mere mortals. But it's not the place for it."

Jon shook his head, "I've made the decision to not be that guy who would have knocked his teeth down his throat for saying that shit."

"I'm glad," Punk said, "though I'd kinda like to see you kick some ass."

"Another time," Jon said, "Right now I just need to get you home and love you until you can't see straight."

Punk was pulled close and his neck nuzzled by Jon right there in the waiting room he blushed warming inside and out and couldn't find it in himself to complain.

"You guys better get out of here before clothes start coming off," Cabana said, "being watched by sick people shouldn't be a turn on."

They got to Punk's place quickly. Jon was kissing him soundly, covering Punk's body with his pressing him against the door pinning his wrists to the wood.

"How can I show you…" Punk whispered punctuating his words with kisses, "that I'm all yours."

"I don't know…" Jon sighed against Punk's neck.

"Do you need us to go more public? Be official?" Punk whispered.

"Right now I just need you to let me make love to you," Jon said pulling away and then dropping to bow and extend his hand to Punk.


	12. Chapter Ten

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

Sweat was beading off his forehead running down his chest, despite the fact that it was cool in the room. He could barely hear the sound of skin slapping against skin for the sounds that were being wrenched from his own throat. He clung to Jon desperately his legs trying to force him deeper his arms trying bring him closer. Tears were running down his face, he was so close and Jon wasn't even stroking him. The slow dead on strokes to his prostate were too much.

"Look at me," Jon commanded speeding up his thrusts.

Punk pried open his eyes to look at his lover, "I love you…"

"I love you too baby, come for me," Jon told him.

"Oh…" Punk came with a soft cry.

Jon followed him into orgasm whispering his actual name against his neck, something Jon hadn't dared to speak.

"You know you can call me Phil sometimes if you want, just not at the club," Punk said.

"You strippers are awfully protective of your government names," Jon whispered trying to pull out but Punk wouldn't unwrap his legs.

"Lemme feel you a little more," Punk said, "it was our first time without a condom."

"How can I forget," Jon asked.

Punk finally relented and untangled his legs and Jon pulled out and rolled off him.

"You're so tight after, I was scared I wouldn't have enough room to get a stiffy again," Jon mumbled.

"Ready to go again?"

"We should get dressed and go back to the hospital," Jon whispered.

"Alright," Punk said feeling a bit guilty for feeling so good when everyone else was so miserable, "But I'm not showering. I might sponge off a little bit."

"You're serious?"

"As a heart attack," Punk pointed out, "if that's what it takes for you to feel your territory is marked."

"I think the bite marks on your neck will just have to do," Jon said, "we're both showering. And if you're lucky I'll give you a handy while I'm cleaning you up."

Punk wanted to protest but he was lifted out of bed by Jon and carried into the bathroom.

* * *

><p>Jon talked to the uniformed officer outside of Celeste's room, the young woman had yet to wake. He told the young man that he was going to take over watch duties to get some sleep and he'd have someone come relieve him when he wanted to go.<p>

Cabana was standing by the window gazing into the room, no sign of Trish, Adam, or Amy anywhere and Jon was grateful for that.

"Any change?" Punk asked.

"Nope," Cabana responded, "Trish is hanging her hopes on Jon playing Celeste's favorite song."

"I don't see how a song is going to be the key to waking her," Punk said.

"Do you wake up to your favorite ringtone?" Cabana questioned.

"I wake up with Lewinsky's," Jon smirked.

Punk blushed.

"You can try if you want," Cabana said.

"I don't think going down on an unconscious woman in a hospital is exactly a good idea," Jon said, "the thought of it is a little icky in more ways than one. In an attempt to change the subject what is Celeste's favorite song?"

"Trish told me what it was…" Cabana said blinking trying to recall the information.

"Do you listen to her at all or stare at her tit's the whole time?" Punk asked.

"I try to actively do both, but you know I have a hard time remembering song titles," Cabana complained.

"Would it make you feel better to tell me the verses?" Punk asked.

"It's from a long time ago," Cabana said humming out of tune, "something about a criminal."

"Smooth Criminal?" Jon asked.

"No, it was a chick who sang the damn song," Cabana said "if I could just remember."

"Why not go in there and play what you want," Punk said, "maybe hearing her guitar might help her come out of it."

"I said I'd play Celeste's favorite song in an attempt to wake her," Jon told him, "Trish has got a big mouth telling you."

"Big mouth and big tits," Cabana said, "that is a bonus, the fact that she's female breathing and tolerates my babbling is the real reason she's a keeper."

"You're so crass Scott," Punk said walking up to join the conversation.

"Me crass? You're the one who looks like he's been abducted by vampires and fucked half the morning," Cabana said.

"I was," Punk grinned.

"Where are Trish and Adam?" Jon asked changing the subject.

"I took Trish home to shower, Adam is making transatlantic phone calls for work, and Amy had to go into the clinic for post-op," Cabana said, "so you don't have to worry about playing the old guitar, until Trish gets back."

Punk had his phone out, "It's gotta be Criminal by Fiona Apple, Celeste was way into the angst chick rock scene. I thought it was because she was gay and kind of in the closet. But you can't be a closet lesbian and have a giant poster of Melissa Etheridge without some savvy gay questioning it."

"I actually know that song, it's one of the few MP3's I own," Jon said thanking his lucky stars, most of his music collection was jazz or eighties metal, and in album format which Punk had found a little strange during his first visit to his loft but he'd totally been into the Billie Holiday that Jon had played at least enough for a slow dance.

"This I'm going to have to see," Punk said, "but first I want a minute with Celeste. I wanna lecture her about using, while she's asleep and not able to complain about my straight edge preachings."

Cabana's phone beeped, and he text back whoever had text in the first place.

A minute later it beeped again, "Trish wants me to go get her now that you guys are here I'll be back."

Cabana was gone a moment later and Captain Foley came in.

"Captain," Jon said surprised to see him.

"Any change?"

"None," Jon said.

"I think this and the Meth Lab are related," Foley said, "Irvine saw that this was the woman on the video, Itchy's lady house guest. There's a fed posted up in the precinct giving us the week before he takes over our case."

"No fed is taking over this one," Jon growled, "I'm making this collar."

"It's bigger than Itchy," Foley said, "they said we can continue working till the end of the week, turn over whatever we have to them and they finish this. They want who Itchy is working for."

"Who do they think it is?"

"Don't know," Foley said, "but it's gotta be someone bad that specializes in drugs."

"Lemme in underground," Jon said, "I'll find out who it is and I'll bring them down."

"You're headstrong, young, you'll get yourself killed," Foley said, "As much as I want the precinct to get this collar, we'd better turn this over to the feds."

"They are not getting the credit for this," Jon growled, "do you know how many hours I've sat in that warehouse watching the video feed smelling Joe's farts listening to Itchy talk to himself on the monitor because he's so spun out on dope? I'm not giving up. I don't care if it kills me I've got to solve this."

"What about your pretty lover there?" Foley said, "we take risks on the job all the time calculated ones, but this one has too many variables too many ways to go wrong. Don't you want to come back home to him? Every night? When this case is done who knows what will become of you."

"You're the guy who lost his ear in the LA Riots getting little kids out of a burning barrio," Jon exclaimed.

"I jumped off a clock tower to protect the Govenator once," Foley smirked, "Walked around for a half an hour with my tooth in my nose."

"You of all people know what it feels like then," Jon said.

"Do you know how worried I was when I was doing that shit? That I'd never see DeWayne again?"

Jon was silent.

"I thought I was dead after the jump from the clock tower," Foley said, "Ended up with a bullet in my ass a hell of a concussion and my tooth dangling my nose. You could end up with worse, especially if it's who I think it is behind all this."

"Thought you said you didn't know," Jon said.

"They won't say but I have my suspicions," Foley said before leaning into whisper, "I think

it's the Colons."

"Carlos Sr. is serving two life terms," Jon whispered.

"His boys are free and were running a drug operation that stretches from Puerto Rico to Miami," Foley told him, "It wouldn't be much of a stretch for them to have relocated to another bay."

"I'll find them," Jon said.

"You won't," Foley said, "We'll gleam more info and hand this one over to the feds let them deal with the fire that the Colons are going to start. Go home to your pretty lover, go home a young man without the wounds that won't heal."

The old man walked away leaving Jon seething in his wake, Jon was more determined than ever to solve this case.

* * *

><p>Punk exited Celeste's room to find Jon pacing the hallway he'd waited until Jon's boss left whatever they were discussing didn't need him getting into the middle of it, he wanted Jon to tell him about it himself. He knew Jon was upset from his posture, and though Punk liked to see him wild and unhinged he didn't want anyone to cause Jon such upset.<p>

"Your boss was here," Punk said simply.

"Yes…" Jon said his voice tighter than Punk had ever heard it his blue eyes were wild and his hair was hanging in his face.

"What's wrong?" Punk whispered.

Jon stopped pacing and stood in front of him, "Punk…I…I can't tell you about it here. But I will."

"Is it bad?"

"It could be," Jon said.

"Whatever it is," Punk said, "I'm here."

Jon smiled, "When Cabana and Trish get here we're going down and having a cup of coffee. The cafeteria has a shitty espresso machine like at the club I wanna see if it hisses every time it makes a venti latte."

"You're changing the subject," Punk laughed.

"I'm good at changing the subject," Jon stepped closer and slipped his arm around Punk, just as Adam rounded the corner.

Punk knew he should pull away but he couldn't find it in his heart to do so. He saw the hurt in Adam's eyes along with regret.

"I'm sorry about earlier," Adam said.

"Let's just forget it," Jon said.

"I need to say this," Adam put up a hand, "I know you're just doing your job. But I didn't see this coming."

"You never thought of the possibility of me moving on," Punk said softly.

"Not this quickly…" Adam said, "You don't get over things, Phil…you fight. You don't move on you dig your heels and make yourself even more miserable."

"It's been a year since I left you," Punk said, "since things ended for good with us. I don't wanna hash this out right now."

"Maybe I need us to," Adam said.

"You need us to what?" Trish asked walking up with Cabana in tow.

"Nothing," Adam whispered retreating.

"I'm sure this has to do with your too amicable for words break up," Trish said.

"There is no reason we couldn't remain friends after we stopped being a couple," Punk said.

"You're not friends," Trish said, "as much as you'd like pretend, that's just not the case. Adam still pines for you desperately, can't you feel how he looks at you? I am the last person to say that the two of you are meant to be, it's almost like Peter Pan trying to bang Captain Hook. But for whatever reason he's still holding on to it."

"It's been over for me for a long time," Punk said, "maybe he just needs more time."

"Maybe," Trish sighed.

Jon stiffened he'd heard what he'd been expecting. Adam still wanted Punk and badly, everyone could see it. Punk had moved on, Jon had felt it, he'd moved on with him.

"No change with Celeste?"

"No," Jon said.

"Maybe playing the song for her will help," Trish said, "she stole the CD and wore that track out so much the damn thing skipped."

"So long as I don't have to sing," Jon said walking into the hospital room they were all looking at him.

"Hell no," Jon said, "not a part of the deal."

He walked out of the room and found himself pulled into a deep kiss by Punk once the dizzying kiss was over Punk whispered against his lips, "Be a good sport, and I'll fulfill any fantasy that's been lurking in your mind."

Jon didn't need fantasy with Punk but he did have a few things he'd be longing to try with him.

"Fine," Jon said, "but we never speak of this again."

He shuffled into the room and picked up the beat up old guitar sat down in the chair it leaned against and started strumming it. The chords for guitar were pretty easy, had this been bass he'd have a harder go of it.

* * *

><p>Punk didn't expect the song to wake up Celeste though Dr. El said she should have woken by now, seeing Jon play the guitar and sing a bit even though it was clearly under the bribe of some sort of sexual deviancy, which Punk was happy to provide, all Jon would have to do is name it.<p>

Jon wasn't taking the song seriously at first, he played very well, the singing wasn't his thing though not until he got to the end of the song and lost himself into the music. It was extremely sexy, Punk was working out a way to get Jon to play for him.

"I was sure that was going to work," Trish said from where she sat in Cabana's lap on the ICU's waiting room couch.

"You were thinking a song was going to bring your sister out of a drug induced coma?" Jon chortled, "You've watched too many feel good romantic comedies."

"That song was sexy as hell, well worth all the trouble I'm going to have go through because of it," Punk grinned.

"Believe me you'll have fun," Jon said.

Dr. El was in with Celeste. There had been a spike in her blood pressure which had been terribly low right after the song which was a good thing but not the miracle Trish had been expecting. When Dr. El had finished she came out to the waiting room.

"There's been a steady climb in her vitals," Dr. El said, "That is a good sign, the best we've had since we got her in."

"You've said her vitals were good this whole time on the climb and she still hasn't woken," Adam said he'd followed Dr. El out of the room.

"She will on her own terms," Dr. El said, "this is a good sign."

"Own terms? There's nothing you can do?" Adam asked.

"We're doing all we can," Dr. El said.

"It's not good enough!" Adam exploded.

Punk flinched, he'd never seen Adam angry in all the time he'd known him it was scary Punk shifted closer to Cabana while Jon stepped between Adam and the doctor.

"You're upset but you don't get to talk to her like this, she is doing the best she can," Jon told him, "you need to go home shower and get a bite to eat, you've spent so much time here burning your candle at both ends. You've been awake for two days you need rest."

"I need this bitch to do her job so I can get my sister back!" Adam said, "I can't lose her too."

Trish gasped.

"He's right man, you need a break," Cabana said, "lemme drive you home."

"I can manage on my own," Adam said storming toward the elevator.

Punk looked at Trish, "I've never seen him like that."

Trish swallowed hard tears dripping down her cheeks, "I have when we were little, when he first came to live with us. We all have the same father."

"Karen is not his mother?" Punk asked.

"No," Trish shook his head, "dad had a bitter divorce with Addy's mother when he met mine he was smitten. We lived in separate homes until Addy was eight and I was six. His mom started taking away time between them wouldn't let Addy see dad so…he did what he could to get custody of him. Adam came to live with us. His mother was destroyed by losing him. Adam was so angry with dad for taking him away from her. It got worse when she died. He used to lash out destroy things. He used to cut himself. I wish dad would have tried a different tact that joint custody was possible. He was miserable, the only thing that brought him out of it was Celeste's birth."

"I can't believe he never told me…" Punk said, "then again I never asked and there is so much I never told him."

"It was his deepest secret, his worst heartache losing his mom," Trish whispered.

Punk nodded wandering back over to the window looking into Celeste's room he noted a change in the woman's breathing just before her eyes opened.

"She's awake," Punk whispered.

"I've got to call Foley," Jon said pulling out his phone and walking away.

Dr. El headed into the room, Punk, Trish and Cabana huddled around the little window as Dr. El and her two nurses examined and questioned Celeste. Two hours later the three of them were allowed to see her.

Punk had gone in with Trish and Cabana to see Celeste. She was suffering the effects of an involuntary detox, and the nurses had bound her wrists once they noticed her clawing at her skin.

"I've got to get back to Itchy," Celeste told them.

"Is he your boyfriend?" Trish asked.

"You know the answer to that," Celeste said.

"Have you been with him all summer shooting up while we've been funneling money into your account thinking you're on a fabulous French getaway," Trish said.

"I ran out of dough," Celeste explained, "Itchy lost one of the shipments, so I had to pay for it so they wouldn't take him."

"Who the fuck is Itchy?" Punk asked.

"He's my best friend, he was there when no one was. Helped me through tough times," she said, "I need to be there to help him. He's in too deep. I was coming back for more money to buy him out of the deal."

"Does it have to do with the crack we found on you?"

"It's bigger than that," she sobbed, "I thought we could make it back by cooking some dope and selling it to the strung out Meth heads on the boardwalk. But Itchy didn't want to risk me going down for something like that."

"I have someone who can help," Punk said, "do you still trust me?"

She nodded and bit her lip.

Punk went to get Jon, he was still on the phone.

Punk tried getting his attention one way but this would require less of a gentle touch. He launched himself into Jon's arms pulling him into a rough kiss the man all but dropped the phone. Punk pulled back hiding a smile.

"I gotta go," he told whoever was on the other end of the line.

Punk took his hand and led him into a men's restroom. They got strange looks from two male nurses who were talking about a football game. Punk knew how to get rid of them, he pulled Jon into another bruising kiss putting all the heat he could muster into it. Jon got the hint his hands left their neutral spot on Punk's waist and traveled down to cup his and pull him closer. The kisses got hotter until they'd forgotten about the two nurses. Punk was getting a bit carried away, so he broke the kiss and pulled away. He was pleased to find the nurses gone.

He pulled out of Jon's arms and locked the bathroom door.

"What were you and your boss talking about?" Punk said, "and what does it have to do with Celeste?"

"It has to do with the case that I'm working on," Jon admitted sounding completely out of breath, "she was on the surveillance footage of this trap house we've bugged. There's this guy we've been looking to bring in."

"He wouldn't go by the name of Itchy would he?"

"How'd you know that?"

"Celeste is awake," Punk said simply, "she told us about a deal that went bad a shipment got lost she'd been coming to her sister for more money when she collapsed."

"My boss suspected Itchy was a middle man he was working for someone worse," Jon said, "if I can get inside, then I can bring the whole thing down."

"How much trouble is Celeste in with this new development?" Punk asked.

"None if she'll be my way in," Jon said.

"Adam will never allow it," Punk said.

"I'll talk him into it," Jon said

"How?"

"For starters she's the woman on the tape, who is in possession of cooking supplies, she's gonna get time for that," Jon said, "and whatever else Itchy is into whether or not she knows the full extent she is an accessory. She's looking at a lot of time. I can get her a deal work it down for cooperating with us"

Punk sighed, "I'm pretty sure that's a damn good bargaining chip."

"You think he'll agree?"

"I think so," Punk said.

"Well it's done then," Jon said, "I'm gonna go talk to her. Then I'm heading down to the precinct. Gonna bargain with the Fed at the station, too."

"What can I do to help?" Punk whispered.

"Stay far away from this," Jon said, "if this goes down the way I think it will it's gonna get messy."

"I like messy," Punk put his arms around Jon, "remember than when you decide what I owe you for the song."

"Not that kind of messy," Jon said, "all though picturing you naked covered in fruit and whipped cream is not a bad image."

"What's your favorite kind of fruit?" Punk asked.

"Surprise me," Jon said, "I'll come by tonight."


	13. Intermission

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

_Present Day_

"This is going to hurt a lot," AJ said holding the syringe in one gloved hand.

"What is that?" Punk wanted to know what was in the syringe the young woman was holding.

"Do you trust me?" AJ asked.

"Not particularly," Jon answered the question looking at the small dark haired woman she'd voiced the questioned to Punk who nodded, apparently he did trust her.

"Just be quiet and hold him down," AJ said.

Jon met the eyes of Punk again stepping closer. Punk was still half dressed in the threadbare pants he'd been picked up in leaning against an exam table, his ass pointed toward Jon. His considerable ink had gotten even more considerable in their time apart he had completely filled in his sleeves and he had a remarkable chest piece and even some script and a butterfly on his ribs that Jon hadn't gotten close enough to really admire.

Jon's attention moved lower to the indentation in Punk's lower back right above his ass, he'd always been fascinated by the damn thing. He was a fan of the jutting hipbones around the front he missed the days and the nights where he could kiss them and suckle them and hear the sweet moans of pleasure from Punk. His fingers tingled at the thought of touching Punk again. He reached out grasping Punk by the hips using his own body as leverage. Trying not to think of their last time together.

"Nice job Deano!" AJ said.

"Don't start that shit already," he said watching her pull Punk's sweat pants down a little revealing a firm pale ass check to Jon's hungry gaze before she jabbed the long needle into the soft flesh ruthlessly and injected him with the glowing clear fluid in the needle.

Punk barely winced at the needles intrusion he was already biting his lip, but when the fluid was injected he rocked forward screaming loudly. His body trembling.

"What the hell was that?" Jon wanted to know.

"Dermal pigmentation suppressant. It's a very painful process," AJ explained, "it feels like your skins melting off."

Jon glared at her and pulled Punk closer as his body shook more.

"Have you had this done to you before?" Jon said.

"Yes, but it gets easier," she said, "it's something you'll not have to go through. We'll have to do it once a month. Nothing hurts quite like the first time."

"What was the injection for?" Jon asked still holding onto Punk who was no longer screaming but had relaxed into his embrace and was crying softly against his shoulder.

AJ didn't answer his question.

"It's over now," Jon tried to soothe him but Punk wrenched himself away.

"Don't touch me," Punk hissed at him his eyes squeezed shut for a moment before he looked at AJ, "what have you done to me?"

"What had to be done," AJ told him.

Jon was too busy gaping at him, Punk's tattoos were disappearing right before his very eyes.

Punk looked down at his belly to find the last of the word Edge fading, before looking back at AJ, "Everything that was me is gone."

Tears fell down his cheeks, this time they were tears of sadness instead of pain.

"I am so sorry Punk," she said for the first time since Jon had known her sounding remorseful, "you had so many, and if anyone suspects you might still be alive after the blast they might come for you. With them you had a target on your back without them you might be free."

"Without them I'm lost," he said, "Can I have a minute by myself?"

"Sure, I'll find you something to wear and Jon will get you something to eat, we leave within the hour," AJ said, "they aren't gone forever, we'll have to do injections every thirty days, until this is over, and when it's done they'll come back like they've never left."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Punk asked softly.

"That, that was what the shit in the needle was going to do?" Punk asked, "I thought it was drugs."

"I knew you wouldn't have agreed to lose your tattoos but you trusted me enough to let me inject you with drugs?" she asked sounding more hurt than she had right to be.

"There had to be a reason you wouldn't tell me," Punk said, "I didn't think it was anything more than a sedative."

"That makes me feel a little better I guess," she shrugged.

"What about making him feel better?" Jon demanded.

"She did what had to be done Jon," Punk wiped his tears away, "if I want to live I'll have to do this. I have to remember I'm not Punk anymore."

"Punk-" AJ started.

"I'm not Punk," he told her slipping into an accent that was more _Sling Blade _than Jon thought necessary but it was impressive, "I'm Phil."

"Wow, that's pretty damn good," AJ said, "I knew you could do it."

"It's too dramatic," Punk said slipping back into his own accent, "I'm going to need to work on it. You might have given me the motivation I needed to accept my new identity, but I can't forgive you for not telling me you were going to take away my tattoos."

"You wouldn't have let me," she whispered, "don't you want your life back? Don't you want to free Vince? Don't you want to see Brooke again? To hold her?"

Punk touched a hand to his ribcage, where some pretty script and a butterfly once were, he sniffled and nodded.

"Alright then," she said wiping her own tears, "you might not forgive me, and I'm okay with that but I won't compromise when it comes to keeping you safe."

"Who is Brooke?" Jon asked but his question went ignored.

"I need a dermal suppressor too," AJ said.

"You don't have any tattoos," Jon said.

"They're very well hidden," AJ said.

"But I've seen you naked," Jon said.

"Well, aren't you two awfully chummy," Punk said, "do I even wanna know?"

"Don't get all jealous, I was a bait girl once," AJ smirked.

"A bait girl, like in _To Catch a Predator_?" Punk asked.

"Not really but same theme, pervs and kidnapped teenage girls," AJ said, "Remember when I came back from that conference with what you said was Harajuku hair."

"Those were just terrible bangs," Punk said.

Jon laughed picturing his diminutive superior dressed like a Lolita.

"There was nothing I could do I had to wait for them to grow out," AJ said, "it took a while for me to let Celeste see me with my clothes off because of the canings the old man headed the operation gave me for being disrespectful, those pervs like their girls clean without marks save the ones that they put on."

"But the blonde chunks though," Punk complained, "horrible nineties Britney meets Japanime hipster heroine. Who told you that was a good look, worse than the bob you had when you were little."

"Glad we're on good enough terms that you can talk about bad hair cuts I've gotten," AJ said, "you're the one who cut my hair!"

"You're the one who got gum in it," Punk told her.

"See, I knew you couldn't stay mad at me," she said.

"I'm still pretty pissed at you," Punk said, "I've lost everything, my tats were all I had left. You took them without even talking about it with me, and you think I should be fine a minute later. I know we don't have any but I need a little time."

"You've got it," AJ said, "We're going to get you food and clean clothes."

Jon nodded and followed AJ out leaving Punk alone in the room.

"Are you sure he'll be alright on his own?" Jon asked, "he's pretty upset, I've seen him do some crazy things when he gets like that."

"I know him pretty well, he knows his tattoos will come back," AJ said, "he's pissed at me. I should have explained what I was doing before I done it handled it a bit more delicately because sometimes Punk needs it but he wouldn't be able to do the things that he needs to do to get through this to let go of that part of himself. He's got to mourn everything he's lost if he ever wants to get it back."

"Why did you lie to me?" he asked, "you've known him a hell of a lot longer than you first said."

AJ sighed, "Forget you heard that Ambrose, it'll make things a lot easier. I'm not delving into your past with Pun…Phil, so you shouldn't delve into mine. If _they _knew there was more to the story than him being a good friend of my wife's then we'd _both_ be reassigned, and with any luck they might stick him with Mizanin."

"Getting stuck with Mizanin as a protector isn't lucky," Jon said, "it would be doomed. He'd probably have never made it past the explosion. And Mike would be asking if he still got paid his commission."

"Exactly, so keep your mouth shut don't ask any questions, head down to the canteen get him something to eat," AJ said, "you know what he likes."

Jon heard crying in the little room when he returned with some fruit and yogurt, Punk was thinner than he'd ever seen him. He knew better than to push with too much of the wrong thing for him to eat. He knocked softly on the door.

He didn't get a response, but he came in anyway, Punk was sitting on the exam table tears on his face.

"I brought you something," Jon said.

"I'm not hungry," he said though the growling of his stomach proved otherwise.

"Really," Jon said.

"I'm not," he said.

"Just eat something today has been hard enough," Jon said.

"How do you know how hard my day has been?"

"You wake up and nearly get blown up, you found the girl you've known half your life isn't who you thought she was," Jon said, "you find out that you're being relocated, we see each other again, and the same girl from before injects you with some suppressant that makes your tats invisible. You probably feel like everything you've known is gone."

"It is gone," Punk said, "I've finally disappeared."

"You didn't disappear," Jon said, "just because your home is gone and your tats aren't there anymore doesn't mean you're not the same person."

"I never liked that house much anyway," Punk smiled, "I liked the place had in Frisco with Cabana. We finally got the pool finished, and then Vince asked me to move to LA with him. I sold it. I need to disappear so I can live."

"I'm so sorry," Jon said feeling the guilt churn in his stomach.

"It's not your fault," Punk said, "you didn't send the goon squad after me."

"I shouldn't have-" Jon started but Punk cut him off.

"-I was there that night, just after you'd gone," Punk revealed, "Cabana convinced me to go and tell you my answer was yes. But you were gone. I always knew. I should have said yes. If I had said yes…so much would be different now."

"You can't just tell me that," Jon paced the room, "not after all the time that has passed. Not after what you said to me at Colby and Joe's wedding, not after I came to see you after and found you frolicking with old Daddy Warbucks."

Punk sobbed softly, "I should have said yes. Right when you asked me, though I thought you were just fucking with me at first. I mean really, who would want to-"

The door opened revealing AJ with some jeans and hoodie effectively breaking the moment and ending the conversation, but it was for the best it was in the past, "Got you some clothes."

"Great," Punk toed off his shoes and was getting ready to pull of his sweat pants.

Jon turned around. Seeing Punk's body like that would be too much. The conversation they'd been having was too much. He couldn't fix this, too much time had gone by and Punk was already so broken. It was his fault, if he hadn't pushed, if he hadn't been so stubborn, if they'd both been less stubborn things would be so different.


	14. Chapter Eleven

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

"You can help Itchy?" Celeste asked, "you don't look like no cop to me. You look like a tweaker."

"I am a cop," Jon flashed his badge.

"Shiny," she smirked.

The door to the room opened and closed Captain Foley, Joe, and then a bearded man in a suit he didn't recognize came in.

"I did what you said, gonna fill me in anytime?" Joe asked.

"I'm getting there," Jon said.

"Celeste you're awake," Captain Foley said, "I'm Captain Michael Foley of the San Francisco police department."

"If I would have known you guys were gonna throw me a party I woulda woke up sooner," she fidgeted in her restraints.

Jon thought Celeste had probably been a beautiful girl at one point and could be again if she left the drugs alone. Her hair was dull, thin, and flat. She clearly used to be an athlete with well developed muscles most of them had been eaten away. It would be worse for her in jail, he needed to steer this the way he wanted it to go for them. He needed this case solved.

"That's the chick from the video feed," Joe said, "but the three of you already knew that."

"We're here because she's our way in," Jon said.

"You're not going in," the man Jon didn't know said it was the first time he'd spoken, he had a melodic voice and a deep southern accent, the region he guessed was probably Floridian or Georgian. Lacking in the dramatics of the accents from the lower south, "We're going to take it from here."

"By the time you get your team here, Itchy could be dead and the real perps could be long gone," Jon said, "you need me for this. I'm not going in alone, I'm taking Joe with me. He'll be my muscle."

"What's the cover gonna be?" Joe asked, "I'd rather not go in there and get shot up."

"I'm sure," Jon said.

"Does Itchy know you have a brother?" the Fed spoke again.

"Adam would never agree to this," Celeste said pulling at her restraints again.

"We're not saying that Adam should go in there," Jon said meeting the gaze of the Fed.

The man nodded.

"Itchy hasn't seen Adam," Celeste said, "he knows I have a brother. But I've never introduced the two of them. I'm a little ashamed of the Itchy parts of my life."

"That's a good thing," Jon said, "that's my way in."

"That's our way in," the Fed said, "I'm not letting you go in there without an exit strategy."

"Exit strategy?"

"That would be me," he said, "you can call me Rotunda. You're unpolished, a best you can write a traffic citation without help, or collar a mall thief. You'll be in over your head out there."

"You think so?"

* * *

><p>It was nearly eleven on Monday night, the club was closed, again and that made Punk feel out of his typical routine. He'd waited forever for Jon to come by. He'd called and text like a million times. He was worried, he didn't think Jon's plan would move this fast.<p>

Punk was on the couch hiding under a big blanket trying not to let the thoughts that were racing through his head scare him. Freddy Kruger was an excellent distraction from his misery. A startling knock came at the door, Cabana was with Trish consoling her because Celeste had been released and had run off to find Itchy which Punk knew was the intent of Jon and his boss.

Wrapped in his blanket Punk went to answer the door, he found his boyfriend standing there, with a conflicted look on his face. Punk launched himself at Jon winding his limbs around him.

"I was so scared I was never going to see you again," Punk whispered.

Punk hopped down and Jon led them inside, Jon's face in the dim light he was scared to the fear was etched onto his face.

"You're scared too," Punk breathed.

Jon pulled him close the blanket falling away.

"Your skin is so warm, and soft," Jon said his hands running up and down Punk's back leaving goose bumps in the wake of his fingers effectively distracting Punk for the moment he enjoyed the touch but he shook off the feelings.

"What happened?" Punk asked, "Where were you today?"

"I got in," Jon said.

"Why do you seem so upset about it?" Punk asked, "I thought it was what you wanted."

"It is," Jon said, "but it's just as bad as I thought it would be."

"You still have time to get out," Punk said.

"I have to see this through," Jon said, "no matter what. So please forgive me if tonight I try to love you like I'm never going to see you again because I just might not."

"Jon…" Punk whispered tears filling his eyes, "this is too dangerous."

"Very dangerous," Jon said, "I can't talk with you about it. I can't have you know anything and anyone coming for you. I shouldn't have even come here I walked the city for miles and miles hoping to not be followed here. But I couldn't go in there tomorrow, without having seen you tonight. In case I don't come back I wanted this night with you."

"We won't waste it," Punk said, "if it's our last night together. I'm going make the most of it."

Jon brought their lips together pulling Punk closer holding him so tight they were nearly one person.

"Upstairs or down here?" Jon whispered his lips brushing Punk's cheek.

"Down here to start," Punk said, "last round in my bed.

* * *

><p>Jon hadn't felt this vulnerable in a long time. He couldn't see anything he was blindfolded.<p>

"Don't think just feel," Punk breathed against Jon's stomach and he arched his hips trying to get closer to Punk yearning to have those lips on a certain erect part of his anatomy.

Punk's heat was gone replaced by a cold sensation it skimmed over his nipples, pebbling them and making him cry out.

The cold traveled down his stomach, making him quiver, that was when he felt the first swipe of Punk's tongue chasing the wet trails left from whatever melting torture device was trailing over Jon's skin.

"It's cherry," Punk said, "you should try some. Open your mouth."

Jon did as he was told trusting Punk completely.

Something cold and wet touched his parted lips before delving inside, oddly slightly phallic shaped he discovered it was a rocket popsicle. A cherry flavored one.

"Tastes damn good doesn't it?" Punk whispered, "tastes better off you."

The Popsicle left his mouth with a wet pop, cold sticky trails ran down his arms, chest, and thighs. The cold dripping wetness ran from his left thigh down to his ankle, Punk chased every trail he made with his tongue.

Jon's cock throbbed he tried to stand still and straight, as straight as he could. He didn't want to be on the wrong side of the cuffs, Punk could be pretty persuasive, enough to get the blindfold on Jon, and as much as he hated to admit it. He liked this dominate side of Punk and if anyone were going to top him ever it be Punk. If he were going to die tomorrow. He wanted to feel it from the other side, with Punk.

The sticky cold half melted Popsicle went in an unexpected direction skimming over his cock for a second it showed no signs of wilting from the cold.

"Spread your legs," Punk said his tone different than Jon had ever heard it, he hesitated then he obeyed.

Punk's tongue chased the melting cherry flavor down the Jon's length, the infuriating cold went lower to his balls before it brushed against his entrance. He was terrified but he wanted more. His body begged for it. Punk's exploration promised things Jon had never felt before.

"More," he whispered, "I trust you…I love you…"

"Are you sure?" Punk said, "I was just going for foreplay."

Punk pulled the blindfold off Jon.

"Do you really think you're going to die tomorrow?" Punk asked.

"It's a possibility," Jon said, "I don't know but I do know everything is going to change. Either way I can't walk in there without feeling this. Without having you inside me."

"You don't know how much that scares me," Punk whispered, "Please let me help you."

"Just make love to me," Jon told him grabbing the melting Popsicle and tossing it aside.

"If we're doing that we're doing it upstairs in my bed," Punk said.

Jon let himself be led upstairs, Punk kissed him slowly when they entered the bedroom he backed Jon all the way up to the bed.

"Come on, fuck me with that pretty cock," Jon said stroking himself fast, hoping not to lose his nerve.

"If that's what you want," Punk said artfully covering Jon's body with his own with more grace than anyone had a right to possess.

Punk kissed him slowly reaching under the pillow for the lube, their hard cocks rubbing as Punk writhed against Jon who tried to pick up his part of the rhythm but he couldn't think beyond the fact that this was going to happen and the danger looming tomorrow.

Punk broke the kiss to pant above him searching Jon's eyes for a moment before his lips went to Jon's neck making him moan, licking away more of that cherry flavoring, sucking the skin making it red for another reason. He went lower kissing Jon's chest, making eye contact as he latched on to his nipples biting and suckling one then the other. Jon cried out his body arching in pleasure, but he had to keep his eyes open he had to watch this. Punk was putting on a show for him and he was going to watch, it didn't mater that his eyes were wanting to roll back in his head.

Punk kissed Jon's stomach his hands holding his hips down.

"You like this part," Punk whispered taking hold of Jon's cock before swallowing it down quickly.

Jon watched, Punk going to work on his cock was one his favorite things in the world he bucked his hips up forcing his beautiful lover to take more, and Punk did eagerly. Jon should have known it was trickery he pulled off just as quickly as he started.

"Oh, Jon," Punk said, "don't think I'm done with you yet."

Punk paid attention to Jon's balls, sucking on them as he stroked his length he tried to ignore alarm bells going off in his head, had it been anyone else in the bed with him he would have stopped them. He wouldn't have let them get that close. Punk pushed Jon's legs wider focusing on the part of himself that he'd shown no one.

The first touch of Punk's tongue there had him arching up and crying out, fingers pulling at Punk's long hair. That didn't seem to deter Punk but Jon knew that Punk found the hair pulling to be quite a turn on.

He moaned his tongue vibrating against Jon making him pant.

"I've never seen you so undone," Punk whispered, "I wonder…"

Jon gasped, when a slick finger entered him.

"Shh," Punk whispered.

"Don't think. Just feel." Punk instructed stretching him, "so damn tight."

"More," Jon encouraged, nothing had ever felt this good.

He shouldn't have been avoiding this, he could have been doing this with Punk since they knew each other.

It took four fingers before Punk was secure enough enter him. He pushed in slowly, his green eyes boring into Jon's blue ones. He felt so much in that moment, it was beautiful he thought he'd felt connected with Punk before but this was different special.

Every thrust, the way Punk stroked him the slow soft kisses it all felt like goodbye, and what else could it be. Jon didn't see himself walking out of the rendezvous with Itchy going to meet the Colons he saw himself carried out in a black bag. If this was goodbye it was the best goodbye they could have shared.

Jon came hard gasping for breath. Punk kept fucking him through his orgasm before exploding inside him. All the negative feelings from his youth disappeared and were replaced with the love that Punk had shown him since they knew each other.

"Amazing," Jon whispered as Punk buried his face in Jon's neck.

"Best fucking ride of my life," Punk told him.

"You haven't seen anything yet," Jon told him.

* * *

><p>Punk couldn't believe how Jon had given himself to him, it was amazing. Punk would have been comfortable bottoming every time they made love but the fact that Jon actually wanted to that he trusted him with that made it so much better. But it was bittersweet, what if Jon didn't make it out of whatever he was doing tomorrow, Punk didn't think he could ever recover. But he wasn't thinking about that right now not while Jon was kissing him like that.<p>

"What's next?" Punk mumbled against his lips.

"Don't look so sad," Jon said.

"Don't leave me," Punk told him.

"Lets worry about tomorrow, tomorrow," Jon said, kissing Punk again distracting lingering kisses Punk could feel himself getting turned on again.

"I'm scared," Punk said.

"Me too," Jon whispered, "I'm only scared about losing you. You're the best thing to happen to me."

"Ditto," Punk said, "I know there will be no convincing you to stay with me, the best thing I can do is let us have tonight. How do you want me next?"

Jon's smile told him all he needed to know. Jon was hard for him again.

"Hands and knees baby," Jon told him.

Punk did what he was told. The first firm swat he felt had him making a little whimper, his cock hardening again almost instantly slapping firmly against his stomach.

"You like when I spank this ass, don't you baby?" Jon asked delivering another firm swat that made Punk buck his hips.

"You know I do," Punk told him breathlessly.

"You are so fucking sexy," Jon said kissing Punk's shoulder.

Punk moaned, "Jon, I _need_ you to touch me…if this could be our last night, I wanna feel it tomorrow."

A slick finger entered him at the same time a spank was delivered to his ass he rocked back into both.

"You're so hot baby," Jon latched on to Punk's neck a second finger joined the first, jabbing his prostate in time with the slaps on his ass.

"Oh!" Punk cried out his cock pulsing, "more, harder…_please_…"

Jon pulled Punk's hips back and sank inside him with one quick thrust filling him with his cock, hitting his prostate dead on. He loved the sound Jon made when he pushed inside him.

They moved together, rocking in tandem. Jon's hand found Punk's leaking cock, and stroked him as they rocked together. Every nerve ending was on fire, this was the only time Punk ever felt whole and he could imagine this would be the last night where he'd ever feel so complete.

"Maybe we should slow this down a little," Jon's hips snapped a little slower than before the fast pace slowed his hand gripped Punk's hip stopping him from speeding up again he stopped stroking him to grip his cock.

"You're a fucking tease," Punk accused he was so close, Jon always seemed to know when Punk was close and double his efforts but this time he stopped.

Jon laughed and nipped at his ear, tasting the tattoo behind it, "You are too, that's why we're such a good fit. Loving you is like nothing I've ever felt before. Its only fair I should savor it. You've been teasing me since you locked eyes on me when you were dancing on that stage. It's only fair that I return the favor."

"Please…" Punk whispered, "want you to fuck me."

Jon bucked his hips again at that infuriatingly slow pace, "I am."

"Not hard enough," Punk whispered.

Jon pulled almost all the way out and pushed in hard hitting Punk's prostate again making him yelp, "Does that suffice.

"Faster," Punk told him.

Jon moved faster, but his strokes weren't as deep they didn't hit dead on the prostate like Punk wanted, like he needed and Jon wouldn't stroke him he just he tightened his grip around his cock, any tighter and it would hurt now it was annoying, with a bit of friction that grip would have done him in.

"Please lemme come," Punk whispered his voice nothing more than a whine he hated himself for sounding so desperate and needy, "I'll do anything you want."

"Anything I want huh?" Jon asked still completely he shallow fast thrusts had stopped, "I think I have all I want right here."

"Oh!" Punk cried out trying to move his hips to speed up the thrusts, but Jon let go of his cock and held him still.

"Please," Punk cried out hair spilling onto his face sweat dripping down his back.

"Is this what you need baby?" Jon's hips picked up speed and he let his thrusts get deeper.

"Yes," Punk whispered glad that Jon had finally let him thrust his hips too and Jon's hand resumed stroking him.

"Are you still close?" Jon asked swiping his thumb over the head of Punk's cock.

"Yes," he gasped bucking his hips hard.

"Me too baby," Jon whispered licking that spot on Punk's neck the one that he was fond of bruising with hickies, "come with me."

That low rumble in his ear set Punk off, he came with a shout, he could feel Jon filling him. He came down panting as they lay trembling in a sweaty pile, Punk's eyelids grew heavy, he curled himself around Jon and let himself fall asleep.

When Punk woke up he was alone with only the hot glare of the sun on his skin. He groaned at the bright light, he wondered how he hadn't felt it before it had to have been shining on him for awhile with the position of it in the sky. He muscles were so sore, but he didn't regret a second of last night. Jon was probably in worse shape. He reached over feeling the empty mattress beside him.

"Jon," Punk called out as he headed downstairs after he'd pulled on some boxers just in case he ran into Cabana.

There was no sign of him. Punk wasn't expecting to find Jon, not in his heart of hearts. He knew Jon he'd want a goodbye to be as painless as he could manage. Punk spotted the mess left behind by the Popsicle on the floor, the red mess against the hardwood stood out to him. He picked up the stick getting the sticky red syrup on his fingers reminded of how it tasted off Jon's skin.

He dropped the stick and leaned against the pillar in the middle of the kitchen and slowly slid to the floor, he couldn't stop the tears, he hadn't really let himself cry in so long. He hoped Jon would be back he'd come through the door and pull Punk into his arms and everything would be okay again.


	15. Chapter Twelve

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

Jon was at the docks with Joe and Agent Rotunda, he wondered if Punk was awake yet. The ache in his chest never subsided he shouldn't have left Punk the way he did. He should have woken him up and said his goodbyes, he shouldn't have went for the quick and painless runaway route.

Itchy showed a few minutes later looking like a tweaked out version of Russell Brand accent and all.

"We don't have to do this you know," Itchy said.

"You're late," Jon growled.

"Where's my Celestial Heavens?" Itchy asked.

"Do you think I'd bring her today?" Jon demanded loudly already in character, "I'm getting this deal done without my sister, I'll cut her in but I want her ass at home away from all this shit."

"Just so she gets her cut is all I'm saying," Itchy said.

Joe and Rotunda walked ahead like good body guards, heading up to the boat.

"Bienviendos," Diego called from the deck of the beautiful yacht, his cousin Fernando was standing beside him and his brother Carlito was reclined in a chair looking bored.

"Permission to come aboard?" Itchy asked.

"Make your way on, Gilligan," Carlito said.

"I see what you did there," Itchy said stumbling after he'd made it onto the boat.

Jon pulled Itchy up by his collar yanking him to his feet.

"I see you brought extra precautions," Carlito said, "I hope you do mind if we sail out, I like my privacy, there is nothing more private than leaving the shore."

Fernando started to sail out after Diego pulled up the anchor. Jon silently damned the both of them. Jon watched the dock get further away, gulping, he met the steely gaze of Joe who nodded reminding him that he can do this.

"I don't blame you," Jon said, "we can't afford to take any chances."

"I thought we had a mutually beneficial agreement," Carlito said.

"Lemme see the stuff," Jon said.

"It's in the crates. Diego get the crowbar," Carlito said.

Diego pried open one of the crates, Jon nodded at Rotunda who took a look and nodded at him when he found the contents exactly as described.

"Sit, drink be merry," Carlito said.

Jon sat as did Itchy, Rotunda and Joe remained standing.

"Why don't we have a drink to celebrate our merger," Diego suggested, holding up a bottle of top shelf champagne gold label shit that Jon doubted he'd ever be able to afford in three lifetimes.

He took a champagne flute offered but he didn't drink any. Itchy downed his glass quickly.

"It looks like rain today," Carlito mused sitting at one of the white tables on the deck next to the chair Diego had just vacated, "I love sailing on overcast days, some people don't like sailing in bad weather, but I do."

Jon looked up at the sky threatening rain was just another reminder that he needed to get the hell out of there as soon as possible, a glance back showed exactly how far they were from the shore.

"Aren't you gonna drink up? That's good shit there," Carlito said sipping his own champagne.

Jon drank it down.

Diego refilled his glass, he downed it needing a little something more.

"Now for our payment," Carlito said.

Jon pulled out a band full of money, "That's twenty grand."

Carlito handed it to Diego to count, "Fernando bring us back to shore."

Jon thanked his lucky stars they were bringing the boat back they were more than ten miles from shore too far for back up to reach them.

"Aye, mate, I don't feel so good," Itchy slurred stumbling into Joe.

"I was wondering how long before the poison took effect," Carlito said, "I'm getting everything I want."

"The only thing you're going to get is time in the state pen," Jon said calmly though he was terrified inside, "You have the right to remain silent-"

"_You_ have five seconds to run," Carlito said with a sneer, "Cop."

"Not gonna happen," Rotunda flashed his badge and gunshots rang out everywhere.

Joe grabbed Itchy and flung him away from the shots fired.

Jon drew his own weapon ducking behind one of the crates, "Tried to give you fucks a chance."

"Tried to give you a chance lost boy," Carlito called out, "I could smell a rat as soon as you boarded."

"Save the quips for later kid," Rotunda appeared beside Jon, "back up is on the way."

"The only problem with that is that we're still a few miles away from the dock," Jon said, "They gonna swim to us?"

Jon had let the fear creep in he'd lost the control he'd worked for his whole life.

"Come out little rat," Carlito called out more shots were fired.

"Well, well what do we have here?" Carlito called out, "I've got your little friend Scratchy."

"Actually, it's _Itchy_ mate," Itchy said.

"How about I put a bullet in your brain _Itchy,_" Jon could hear the sneer in Carlito's voice.

Itchy made a little whimper but said nothing.

"If you put a bullet in him," Jon said, "I'll just have to put one in you."

"That poison has got to be taking effect on you by now little rat," Carlito said.

Jon's vision was blurred, he felt so far away from his body. He had to get this done before it took hold completely.

"What's it gonna be?" Carlito called out, "you gonna come out and die honorably?"

From the sound of his voice Carlito was hard left Jon stood and fired three shots left one of them striking it's target, only hitting him in the abdomen, probably a fatal shot before the boat hit rough waves and Jon stumbled back and completely overboard.

He was succumbing to the poison and hitting water had nearly knocked him unconscious. He tried to swim up and break the surface but he couldn't move he was just sinking to the bottom. If Joe and Rotunda got Itchy out it would all be worth it, his sacrifice. Punk would understand, he hated losing the man just after finding him. He hated that an asshole like Carlito was going to be his undoing.

Jon knew he had to be losing it because he saw a black haired woman swim into his vision. She was lovely tan skin dark eyes and she had fins. It had to be the poison, it was making him see mermaids. Pretty soon he didn't see anything else, his vision blurred out and then went dark.


	16. Chapter Thirteen

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

Punk hand managed to pull himself out of his crying jag, it started raining and it hadn't rained since April. He took that as a sign that things were bleak wherever Jon was. Cabana was off with Trish and he didn't even try calling Jon again. He'd been pacing his house for hours holding the popsicle stick, now he found himself fascinated by the rain watching it through the sliding glass doors over looking the backyard. He tried not to look out in the backyard, he and Cabana had started digging to DIY an in ground pool but they got distracted earlier in the summer and Punk had been avoiding looking at it until they both had time to work on it otherwise he'd end up digging it himself.

He wasn't sure how long he'd ended up staring out the sliding glass door, but the giant hole he and Cabana had dug for their pool was halfway full with water. He finally tore himself away to take a shower, though he wasn't sure he wanted to wash Jon off his skin but he needed to go down to the hospital and check on Celeste.

Reluctantly, he showered and came downstairs, low slung slightly baggy tattered jeans sliding down his hips, a black tank top and a beanie over wet hair. He grabbed some sunglasses and his car keys after slipping into a pair of Converse he deemed himself passable to leave the house. He pulled open the door to go out and found Colby on the porch about to knock.

Colby was more of a wreck than he was.

"Colby, what happened?" Punk asked his heart already dropping down to the bottom of his stomach.

"Some lady called, she said Jon and Joe were hurt," Colby whispered sobbing some more, "I'm so scared."

Punk pulled him into a hug, "They're gonna be fine they have to be."

A horn honked impatiently from the driveway, it was Colby's dad at the wheel, "You two coming or not? Your mama is blowing up my phone wondering where her smokes are. Do you want me to tell her that you're out here hugged up with another boy while your man is lying up in a hospital bed. It'll break her heart if you don't make an honest man out of Joe, I'll never have a son to watch football with."

Colby sighed, "I wouldn't have brought him along but it's hard driving with tears in your eyes, and he was going out to get mom smokes anyway."

Steve drove like a mad man down to the hospital, he dropped them off and gave Colby an awkward hug telling him that he'd send his mother along once she'd had her smokes.

In the lobby was a bearded man his clothes were soaked, "I'm Agent Rotunda. Are you Colby?"

"Yes," Colby said, "is he alright?"

"His condition is stable," Rotunda said, "he was hit in the shoulder."

"Oh," Colby said Punk was practically holding his friend up.

"What about Jon is he okay?" Punk asked.

Rotunda sighed, "We did what we could at the scene."

"Listen fucker, if you tell me, he's dead I might have to kill you," Punk snarled.

"His condition is unknown," Rotunda said, "he's not dead we administered CPR at the scene before the ambulance arrived."

"CPR…" Punk sputtered.

"He nearly drowned," Rotunda said, "Jon is not a man I'll ever make the mistake of doubting again."

"Did he get the bad guys?" Punk whispered.

"Yes," Rotunda smiled, "if you're his emergency contact you might be able to get more information that I can without clearance from the higher ups."

"I don't think I'm his emergency contact," Punk whispered tears falling down his face, "we've only been together a short time."

"I'm gonna find out about Joe and I'll call Foley, he'll get you clearance to see him," Colby told Punk.

Not twenty minutes later Dr. El was briefing both Punk and Foley on Jon's condition.

"We've managed to pump his stomach," Dr. El explained, "we determined it was the glass he drank from that contained the poison and not the alcohol consumed, we were able to give him an antidote once we determined type of poison used."

Punk sighed loudly, "So he's going to be alright?"

"We're not sure right now," Dr. El said, "oxygen deprivation shouldn't be an issue, he was pulled out the water almost immediately after he'd fallen in."

"We had a diver at the scene just in case," Rotunda explained appearing from nowhere.

"Can I see him?" Punk asked Dr. El.

"Of course," she said, "but you know you can't make life support and other decisions due to the legal status of your relationship with Mr. Good."

"I understand," Punk whispered wiping tears away, "I just wanna see him."

Punk all but stumbled into the room. He'd never seen Jon so still. He was hooked to monitors and IV tubing was running from his arms. He looked so pale small in the hospital bed. Punk was comforted by the soft rise and fall of Jon's chest.

Punk pulled a chair close to the bed and took his hand in his, "Hey…we had a hell of a night last night. This is how you decide to top it? I would have been all for breakfast in bed."

"Whatever you did today, you got the outcome you wanted you beat the bad guys," Punk said, "I love you but I'm kicking your ass for making me worrying like this."

Punk lifted Jon's hand to his mouth and kissed it.

Colby appeared in the doorway, "How is he?"

"He's breathing," Punk said, "what about Joe."

"The surgery went good, he should be waking up from where they put him under any time now," Colby said, "I'm not letting him out of the house for a few years."

"I'm probably gonna distract Jon with sex and he won't notice that I've been keeping him in," Punk said.

* * *

><p>When consciousness came to Jon it came in hard and heavy, a steady beeping sound was the first thing he registered. His whole body felt cold, except his right hand it was so warm. He opened his eyes to find he was in a stark white room that reeked of disinfectant it had to be a hospital. Turning his head to the right intensified his headache but revealed why his hand was so warm Punk was there asleep his cheek pressed to Jon's palm. Jon smile softly, glad that that he had more control than he last remembered and could move his left hand to card through Punk's hair.<p>

"Jon…" Punk mumbled sleepily.

"I'm here baby," Jon whispered.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," Punk mumbled kissing Jon's hand again.

Jon laughed, "I'll have to thank a mermaid for fishing me out of the bay."

"Mermaid?"

"She was tiny, but beautiful, she had these big brown eyes, fins, strong as an ox dragged me to docks," Jon said recalling how the small woman locked her arms around him and drug him up to the surface and all but shoved him onto the docks.

"You're not making any sense," Punk said, "you must have saw the divers Rotunda had in the water."

"You spoke to Rotunda?" Jon asked, "how is he? How is Joe."

"Joe got hit," Punk told Jon.

"No," Jon said, "he's not dead is he?"

"No, he had surgery to repair his shoulder and he's awake and talking and everything," Punk said, "Colby's threatening to keep him locked in his room for a year."

"You're probably thinking of doing the same thing with me," Jon said.

"I know I can't hold you back," Punk said.

"But you want to," Jon said.

"I love you and I want you around for a lifetime," Punk said.

"I will be around for a lifetime," Jon said.

"Doesn't mean I can't worry," Punk said.

"You can, but you'll probably get wrinkles," Jon said, "as much shit as I find my way into you'd be better off trying to not worry."

"I don't think I can not worry about as much as you can not get into trouble," Punk laughed.

The door opened revealing Dr. El, "Visiting hours have been over for two hours. I've given you as much time as I could, you're welcome to stay in the waiting room. But I think you've spent too much time here. You should go home."

"I'll stay in the waiting room," Punk said resolute, "I am not going home."

Mama Jackie appeared in the doorway with a squirming Colby she had a good grip on his ear, "Oh, yes you are. You're coming back with me both of you are getting a good night sleep and a good meal if it kills you. Are you going to be a good a boy and get in the car or I am gonna have to snatch you up too?"

"You'd better do as she says, it looks like she's got quite the grip," Jon laughed, "I want those pretty ears to still be attached when I get out. I've got lost time to make up for."

Punk smiled, "I'll go quietly. The embarrassment of being led out by the ear with someone else's mama is too much for even my defiance."

"Come on," Mama Jackie said, "we're going back to the house and I'm gonna fry up something fattening and you two pretty boys can complain about how you'll have to work it off in spin class or whatever in the hell fad exercise regimen you're doing this month."

"We're doing Pilates this week," Colby said.

"Whatever," Mama Jackie said, "then we're gonna watch some Sex and the City and wish we were all as fabulous as Carrie Bradshaw. That girl has got herself a shoe collection."

Jon laughed.

"She does," Colby whispered wrenching out of his mom's grasp, "I am so a Charlotte who wishes she were a Carrie."

"Who would I be?" Jon asked from his bed.

"You'd be BIG, and Punk is Carrie," Colby said, "Say your goodbyes and bring your ass, mama waits for nobody."

"You know it," Mama Jackie said, "We'll be in the car, I'm dying for a smoke."

"Just follow the chain smoke and the fuel emissions," Colby said, "We're in Joe's Land Rover."

Dr. El departed with them, "You've got ten minutes, and remember there are a lot of windows."

"Don't worry, I'm not turning this into a conjugal visit," Punk said.

"No conjugal visit?" Jon asked, "I'm a little disappointed baby."

Punk looked back at him, "Not sure we can even have a conjugal visit. One we would have to be married, two you'd have to be imprisoned not hospitalized. There is nothing I'd love to do more than make love to you, but are you sure you're healthy enough for sex?"

"One, I'd marry you in a heartbeat, two is a technicality, and three I'm always ready for sex with you," Jon said his cock was hard under the blankets at just the thought of being near Punk.

Punk stepped closer to the bed, "You'd marry _me_?"

"Why is that so hard to believe?"

"I'm a stripper," Punk said, "I take my clothes off for money."

"So, I'm a cop," Jon said, "I get shot, drink from poisoned glasses, and fall off boats."

"You can't want to marry me," Punk whispered.

"Why can't I?" Jon asked, "and don't give me that shit about you being a stripper, because I don't care what you do I just care about who you are. You're the only one for me Phil. You have to know that."

"I'll be back tomorrow," Punk told him avoiding the question and Jon's gaze.

"Aren't you going to kiss me goodbye?" Jon asked.

Punk leaned over and kissed Jon softly his hand slipping under the blanket and the flimsy hospital gown to stroke his length quickly.

Jon moaned his eyes snapping open, "Punk…"

This was risky public venue, Jon was sure with the way Punk leaned over him and in the dark no one could really see what was happening under the blanket all one would see was the two of them wrapped in an embrace.

"Shh, lemme make you feel good," Punk whispered his lips going to Jon's neck.

He twisted his fist in a different way and Jon bucked his hips and bit his lip to keep from moaning out loud.

"Do you want me to finish? If so you'd better stay quiet and still," Punk said.

"I'll stay quiet and still if you consider marrying me," Jon gasped.

"I'll stop if you say the m word again," Punk said.

Jon let one of his hands curl around Punk's guiding it to pump his length, "You know you think about forever with me. Let's make it real make it legal. Marry me."

"Jon," Punk moaned continuing to stroke him.

Jon kissed him soundly as they both worked him through his orgasm. He finally let go and Punk pulled back to lick Jon's release off his fingers.

"You taste amazing," Punk said.

"Marry me and you can taste me all the time," Jon told him.

"No more of the m word," Punk said, "and I'll taste you whenever the hell I want."

With a hip toss he was gone and Jon was fighting off another boner as his body still shook from his previous one. Punk was the one. Without a doubt no one stirred him so much.


	17. Chapter Fourteen

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

Punk sat piled up with Colby and his sisters on the couch of the apartment that Colby shared with Joe. He'd barely made it out of the hospital of his own accord, Mama Jackie was about to come in after him when he met her at the downstairs entrance.

Mama Jackie had fallen asleep two episodes back in the recliner and was snoring softly. He hadn't really been in the mood for a slumber party, but this was where he found himself, and he was having fun. They'd watched a couple episodes of Sex and The City. Until Mama Jackie dropped off to sleep and Colby went for Stardust.

"Are you sure she's asleep?" Colby asked Victoria glancing over at the sleeping woman in the chair.

"She's not smoking or talking," Victoria said dryly, "I think she's asleep."

"I made the mistake of sharing secrets when I thought she was asleep once before and I got my ass beat for it," Colby pointed out.

Natalie laughed, "He's being overly dramatic, it's the only spanking he's ever received, and daddy hasn't forgiven himself for giving it yet."

"It was your own damn fault for fucking at fourteen," Arianne said in a bored tone, "daddy still doesn't know how to deal with any of us growing up. If I have my way he won't know I've lost my virginity until after I've given birth to my first child."

"Are your parents seriously that protective?" Punk asked unable to imagine his parents giving two fucks about anything he'd ever done.

"You did see the way mama snatched me up right?" Colby asked.

Punk laughed at the memory of Colby being led out by the ear. Colby's parents were quite a pair, determined to raise their children even after they were grown apparently, to ensure they'd let decent human beings into the world.

"Joe's gonna ask daddy for permission to marry me," Colby said, "I mean we're already engaged, but I've been holding off on making any plans. What happens if daddy flips out?"

"Please, daddy is all about some Joe," Trinity said, "he's said that he's the best guy any of us has ever dated."

"Mama is all for you two getting married," Natalie said with a sigh.

"Aw…Nattie he still hasn't asked?" Trinity said.

"No…" Nattie said looking down at her lap.

"Nattie is in this totally tragic love affair with a guy named TJ, he's a bull rider," Colby explained excitedly, "Nattie is a horse trainer, TJ's father called her into help get some young horses ready for barrel racing, TJ's whole family rodeos you see, they kinda fell in love and started dating, been that way for over ten years, but nothing else has happened."

"Ten years is not a long time to date before getting married," Punk shrugged, "at lot longer than six weeks, Jon said the m word in a sentence in regards to me."

"That boy is crazy about you if you feel it and he feels it why not go for it," Mama Jackie said stretching, "you kids really thought I was asleep, again didn't you?"

"Mama!" Colby said.

"I'm gonna send your daddy to Joe and let the poor boy know that he can ask for you," Mama Jackie said getting up and walking closer to where Colby was sitting, "Steve will say yes, you don't have to worry about that. Are you gonna show us the ring?"

Colby grinned and pulled a chain out of the tank top he was wearing, a sliver band with small stone.

"That's very pretty Colby," Mama Jackie said.

"It has an inscription," Colby told her, "my love forever."

"That's totally cute!" Arianne said, "when did he pop the question?"

"Six weeks ago," Colby said sheepishly, "it was right after Joe and I brought Jon to the club hoping to get him laid. I was such a bitch that night then I got so drunk he had to literally carry me out. I was such a mess when he did it too. I was all hung over and still bitchy all blotchy skin and mangled hair. He brought me breakfast in bed, told me I'd never looked better and he had the ring box on the breakfast tray. Told me I was the only one for him."

"Why'd you keep it from us?" Mama Jackie asked.

"I was afraid you wouldn't approve," Colby said, "I know. I'm not the son you wanted."

"Why would you think that?" Jackie said, "have we ever made it seem as though we wanted you to be anything but who you are?"

"I mean for starters, I'm gay," Colby said.

"I've known you were gay since I met you," she told him.

"I was seven," Colby said, "_I _didn't know until I was nine."

"You were this little talkative thing with a bowl cut that really wanted to play with Tori's dolls, but was afraid that we wouldn't let you," Mama Jackie said.

"You bought me my own Barbies," Colby smiled, "That doesn't change the fact that I'm a stripper now."

Mama Jackie rolled her eyes, "Your daddy got me off a pole in Magic City."

Nattie laughed, "It's true."

"Really?" Colby said.

"Yes," Jackie said, "ask your daddy. I'm stepping outside for a bit."

"You're actually going out to smoke?" Arianne asked.

"I know Joe doesn't like for me to smoke in here at night, just because he's not around doesn't mean I can go crazy," Mama Jackie said giving Punk a wink.

"She's doing it because of you," Colby said looking to Punk, "I think she thinks you're some kind of religious freak or something. She has no idea what the Straight Edge movement is."

Punk laughed.

"I thought you were when you told me you didn't drink the other night," Tori said, "all that top shelf liquor in that club and your homie is the bartender, that's like free drinks all night every night."

"I wanna know more about Jon asking you to marry him," Colby said changing the subject.

"I think he was probably joking, I hope he was joking, " Punk said, "he has to be we've only been dating six weeks."

"He's been completely smitten since you two met," Colby said, "then when you finally started giving it up he fell harder."

"I adore Jon," Punk told him, "I don't doubt the way he feels about me. But marriage is something…I'm not sure I can do. I mean my parents marriage was the most dysfunctional situation I've ever seen. Then there was Amy and Adam…and I don't know what to say about that one."

"Those are bad examples," Colby said, "tell him you need time."

"Time won't make me come around," Punk said, "It wouldn't even be legal."

"It will be," Colby said, "I'm gonna have my big splashy dream wedding and my cute little house just outside Seattle and when it becomes legal I'll just get Joe and head down to the courthouse and then it'll be just as real as our commitment."

"You know just because Jon proposed you ain't gotta marry him right now," Trinity said, "you can have a long engagement just so you don't leave the poor guy hanging."

"True," Arianne said, "though if I had a guy as hot as Jon asking me that I would have already been in the car on the way to Vegas."

* * *

><p>Jon realized later that maybe he'd taken the wrong tact with Punk. How was Punk going to take him seriously unless he did himself. His spur of the moment proposal was met with rejection. How else could it have been received, Jon was totally unprepared for what had come out of his mouth though he'd never been more serious.<p>

He blamed his lack of preparedness on his near death experience from earlier in the day. He'd lived the few hours leading up to the show down on the boat thinking he might never see Punk again. Now that he had him again he didn't want to let him go, he wanted to lay claim to him. He wanted everyone to know that Punk was his, that he'd said yes to him.

The only thing stopping him from putting the plan into action was the pesky hospital staff, they wouldn't even let him head down to the café to get him a sandwich. He'd been marched back to bed by some well meaning murse when he'd gotten three steps away from his room. He was perfectly capable of getting his own sandwich. He did ask the nurse to bring him one and conceded that he was going to stay in bed. It was crazy to go around in the backless hospital gown in the middle of the night with nothing in the way of pants or underwear he got his sandwich and waited for morning to come.

With it came Punk. He breezed in with big sunglasses on his face a brown paper bag in one hand and Jon's duffle bag in the other.

"Hey," Punk said, "Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

"I slept enough yesterday didn't I?"

"Good point," Punk said setting both items down on the beside table and then pushing his glasses up on his head, "you know you're not allowed to do that me again."

"Foley will probably have me and Joe both on desk duty till we're drawing social security," Jon said dryly.

"I'm sure you'll manage to get yourself hut on desk duty," Punk said, "a massive paper cut or something."

"You do worry about me, don't you baby?"

"You know I do," Punk said, "I love you, you dick. I brought you food and clothes. You might be sprung from the joint once your labs come back. You could be out tonight."

"So I can finally get the fuck out here," Jon said, "you know those assholes wouldn't let me go down to the café and get myself a sandwich."

"Those assholes," Punk said with feigned annoyance, "so that's the incident Dr. El was telling me about when I came in. You know if you press that little red button there someone will come and help you do whatever needs doing. You were walking around the hospital at three am in a backless hospital gown."

"There is nothing wrong with me, I can get my own damn sandwich," Jon said, "there are people in worse condition that can't go find their own sandwiches."

"Silly boy," Punk almost purred at him, "eat up before it gets cold."

"Did you make this?" Jon said reaching into the paper bag and unwrapping a croissant.

"Hell no," Punk said, "I tried once and they were too burnt to be edible, I got that from the café downstairs."

"This is good," Jon said, "I bet you could make this if you tried, I bet you did it the complicated way with the dough, get the pre-made stuff like they do and just pop them in the toaster. I'd be satisfied it wasn't from scratch."

"You're just saying that," Punk said.

"Insincere is something I'm not Punk, I meant what I said just then and I meant what I said last night," Jon said.

Punk blinked and took a seat at the edge of the bed, "I thought we weren't gonna talk about that anymore."

"You still don't believe me," Jon said.

"It's not about me not believing you," Punk said, "I just don't understand why you would."

"You're my forever baby," Jon said, "I guess I got my work cut out for me then. I want you to see how amazing you are."

"I'm not all that," Punk said, "I'm really flattered that you think I am."

"So, changing the subject," Punk said with red ears and red cheeks, Jon smiled at his boyfriends inability to take a compliment, "I went to your apartment and your landlady let me in she's a nice lady a little screechy. I got you some clothes, your toothbrush and a razor. With the help of hospital staff I think I might be able to shave away that scruffy."

"And here I thought you liked my scruff," Jon smirked, "you were the one who rubbed my cheeks the other day saying scratchy, scratchy. And isn't it you that loves it when I kiss those smooth thighs of yours and you can feel the contrast."

Punk sucked in a breath, catching his lower lip between his teeth.

"But if you want it gone it's gone and I'll actually remember to shave everyday, if that's how you like it baby," Jon said.

"I like your scruff," Punk said, "but I think its time for you to shave it again. I wanna feel your smooth skin against me. I've never seen you clean shaven for more than a day at a time."

Jon nodded, "If you want me to shave, I'll do it, I'd do anything for you baby."

Punk blushed again, "Anything?"

"Anything you want," Jon said, "you know that."

"I want to you to play something for me and sing to me," Punk said.

"Any requests?"

"Not today," Punk said, "when you're well."

"Baby, I'm not sick," Jon said, "I wasn't even hurt."

"I almost lost you yesterday," Punk said, "I was reminded how dangerous your job can be. I've never been that scared before. I just need you to take it easy right now."

"I think I can do that," Jon said.

"Once you get sprung from the joint," Punk said, "I want that to hold true."

"I'll take it easy," Jon promised, "you're still gonna let me fuck though?"

"If the doctor says you're well enough," Punk said, "but we'll take that easy too."

"That just means you'll have to do all the work and I'll lay back and enjoy myself," Jon said, "I don't see why we can't do that right now. I feel well enough."

"I came to help you take a shower and get dressed," Punk said, "we're going to go see Joe. Colby is helping him get dressed as we speak."

Jon had been worried about Joe and he'd called his room and annoyed him a little this morning.

"With those two we're gonna walk in on something," Jon smirked.

"Which is why I asked Colby to text me when he got him dressed," Punk said.

"I am not showering, in there probably hella foot fungus in that bathroom," Jon said.

"Which is why these came from the gift shop," Punk opened Jon's duffel and pulled out a pair flip flops, "UCLA had like the worst showers in the dorm Cabana lived in. You had to shower with sneakers on."

"We'll lets get after it," Jon said simply, "you know I can do this on my own but I'm not gonna turn down a helping hand."

"No more of that!" Punk said that pretty blush coming back in his cheeks, "that was a one time only deal. It was dark and you'd nearly been fish food. I'll just be there in case you get wobbly."

Jon and Punk entered the small hospital bathroom armed with towels shower shoes and Jon's body wash. True to his word Punk let Jon do things for himself taking a seat on the sink and pretending to do a word find. Though Jon could feel his boyfriend's eyes crawl the length of his body.

Punk did help him shave, it was a laughable moment, Jon directing traffic.

"You put your tongue ring back in?" Jon noticed the little flash of sliver from the last time Punk had spoken.

"Yeah," Punk ducked his head, "I haven't been wearing it lately…I thought it had closed up but it hadn't and I put it back in. If you're not into it I won't wear it anymore."

"I like the lip ring too," Jon said and "and I like it."

"Yeah, I'm surprised it was still open," Punk said.

"Damn," Jon said, "I'd like you to wear those and you nipple rings, just those and the nipple rings."

"Alright," Punk said, "any other requests?"

"I'll get you something else to go with it," Jon promised, he had thoughts of something silver for his left hand.

Jon was dressed and clean shaven when Punk got the text from Colby. They were stopped in the doorway by Dr. El who made Jon get into a wheelchair. He didn't need it but the woman said it was hospital protocol and he even let Punk push him.

Punk opened the door to Joe's room and found him engaged with Colby in playful banter.

"I'm going to fuck you up if you ever again decide to call me at four am just to talk," Joe threatened.

"Hello to you too sunshine," Jon said, "how's your arm?"

"Hurts like a bitch," Joe said looking at his right arm that was in a sling, "but it'll heal. What about you?"

"I'm five by five," Jon said.

"I've never understood that," Punk said, "five what by five what?"

"Me either, are we multiplying?" Colby asked, "but Faith was a bad bitch I mean she was a bad bitch, Buffy could have learned some shit from her."

"Buffy knew all she needed to know, did you not see how girl was fucking Spike?" Punk asked, "she was a lady in the streets and freak in the sheets."

"They broke it down and tore up that old house," Colby said.

"What are we talking about again?" Joe asked fidgeting.

"Buffy the Vampire Slayer," Colby said.

"Which one is she? The blonde in New York with the slutty friends?" Joe asked confused, "or is she the slutty high school girl blog?"

"Babe," Colby said, "You don't know Carrie Bradshaw from Gossip Girl."

"Do you know any of this?"

"Come on man, everyone knows about Buffy," Jon said laughing.

"There's so much shit on the DVR it all just runs together," Joe sighed.

Jon had been pretty pleased with what Punk had picked for him, the lack of appropriate underwear he was rolling with that Punk wasn't a fan of the comfy boxers that Jon owned, and would rather him go without than wear them. Joe however looked uncomfortable in what Colby had picked, tight jeans that Joe wouldn't have picked himself and a white tank top. Joe was one of the most well built men on the force but he didn't flaunt it. He wore nice suits or slacks and button downs to work and loose fitting jeans on the outings Jon had seen him on. Joe was half covering himself with his left arm.

"Can I have real clothes?" Joe asked after a moment of fidgeting.

Colby huffed and produced a blue button down, "Help me with your sling."

Joe did as he was told and seemed more comfortable once the shirt was on.

"When they letting you out?"

"I'm in for a while," Joe said, "I've got a wound it'll need dressing and care so it doesn't get infected after I get home. Buttercup here better work on his nursing skills."

Colby pulled a face.

"Why don't we leave our boys to talk," Punk said, "and go to see Celeste she's settling in at the sober house."

Colby nodded and they left Joe and Jon alone.

"So, have you heard anything from the Captain?" Jon asked.

"No," Joe said, "Not sure if I'm going back. Gonna talk to Colby's father, ask him if I can marry him. Colby's dream is to have a house in outside Seattle, he wants a cozy little house with a tin roof he wants to hear the rain hit it. He wants to grow a garden and get his realtor's license. We've got a enough saved to put a decent bid on a house. Work a small town beat with less crime, maybe in a few years raise some kids."

"You gonna bail?"

"We won't be far away," Joe said.

"I asked Punk to marry me last night," Jon said.

"Really?" Joe said, "what did he say?"

"It kinda just came out we were talking about conjugal visits, and he did that cute rambley thing he does," Jon said.

"Did you take it back?"

"No," Jon said, "he declined the offer, thought it was a joke because of how it came out. But I'm going to make it real, I'm going to get him a ring as soon as I get the hell out of here. Do you mind me borrowing Colby one day he might be able to tell me what Punk likes."

"No problem," Joe said, "What makes you think he'll say yes once you get the ring? It damn sure didn't help me any. I proposed six weeks ago, Colby said yes, we started talking about his dreams and making plans then it stopped now he won't even so much as give me a date. But I'm going forward with this. As much as he hates to be I know he's traditional, if I can get his dad's blessing everything will be good again."

"I think I've got a harder go of it," Jon sighed, "he doesn't think he's worthy of marriage."

"From what I gather, Punk has been through some fucked up shit," Joe said, "you might wanna kick my ass for saying this but I'm gonna say it anyway, I had Colby go to him and offer him a place with us."

"Punk told me that Colby tried on occasion to get him to fuck him," Jon said, "he told me he declined, but never mentioned you."

"I was right there every time he probably thought it would be awkward for you to know that part," Joe smirked, "I wouldn't let just anybody fuck my baby. We both know Punk has got it going on and for a few months he had this desperate to be fucked vibe and if the way he dances is any indication to how he fucks it'd be ride no one would turn down. He's a good guy too but he had a wall up big time before you. There's still a bit of it left. Don't rush him bring it down it'll do more harm than good."

"You invited Punk into your relationship with Colby?"

"Yes, before you came to town," Joe explained, "well, I had Colby drop breadcrumbs."

"I'm not sure whether to be pissed or amused that you tried to poach Punk," Jon said, "you're right he has been through some fucked up shit, but I don't know how to go slow. I just keep thinking about how I almost didn't come back home to him."

Joe nodded, "I get it."

"You're not gonna try to poach my baby anymore?" Jon asked.

"We only showed interest in him when he was single," Joe smirked, "Three's company and fours a crowd."

"Good to know," Jon said, "you think the Colons done you in, if you try to fuck Punk you'll never see it coming what I'll do to you."

"That goes for you too," Joe said, "you'll be spending a day out and about with Colby."

* * *

><p>"So daddy is coming by to have lunch with Joe," Colby said casually.<p>

"Is Joe gonna ask?"

"Yep," Colby squeaked excitedly, "and daddy assured me he'll give his blessing."

"That's great," Punk said.

"I'm glad to see you're wearing your kinky piercings again," Colby said, "Jon talk you into putting your lip ring in again, you're fuck hot with them in that'll make Jon go crazy."

"Whatever keeps him off bended knee, unless he's going down on me of course," Punk said.

"What are you so afraid of?"

"I'm not afraid of anything," Punk said, "except for living a world without Jon."

"You might if you won't to commit to him," Colby said, "he could take it as a sign that you don't love him."

"I love him with all my heart," Punk said attempting to parallel park in front of the quaint house, "I've lost myself to love before and I'm terrified it'll happen again."

"Jon isn't like those other guys you've been with," Colby said.

"I keep telling myself that and those guys were good to me at first," Punk explained as they headed up to the building, "it wasn't long before I was chained to the bathtub and just let out to cook, clean and be fucked. I've been through hell and I wasn't even married then. I just don't want to end up in situation like that."

"I'm sorry," Colby said, "it sucks that you went through that. I was in a bad scene before Joe. I went with this dick, he liked to hit me whenever I messed up the worst thing about he was my gymnastics coach."

Punk gnawed at his lip, "I never knew that."

"It's a lot of stuff we don't talk about," Colby said, "it's shit like that that makes it so easy for us to take our clothes off for strangers and not be able to let in someone close to us."

Punk knocked on the door and thankfully the heavy conversation was over. A kind faced woman opened the door she was flanked by Celeste and a tweaked out guy who looked like Russell Brand. Celeste was in good spirits with her friend Itchy playing cards with her under the watchful eye of Adam.

Celeste was happy to see them, "Hey Punkers, hi Sethie!"

"So you're the famous Punk that Jon boy was babbling about when he was fished out of the bay," Itchy leaned back in his chair looking every bit the bootleg Russell Brand Jon had described him to be.

Celeste had directed them to a kitchen table, Adam was sitting backward in a chair watching the two play cards while the kind faced woman stirred a pot on stove before she departed to take a call in the den. Punk gave Adam a small nod he shook hands with Itchy and hugged Celeste after Colby did.

Celeste kept conversation light and fun she was in excellent spirits for someone who had overdosed days ago.

"You're going to have to introduce me to your hairdresser," Celeste said to Colby, "I've got to do something to shake up this hair."

"I need to get something done too," Itchy said, "highlights maybe? I gotta look good for community service."

"I go every third Friday," Colby said, "so that'll be next week, if you want I can give Kofi a call, I get a discount for every referral three and it's free."

"I'm in," Celeste said, "that'll be just in time for my job hunt. If I stay clean two weeks at the sober house I can seek employment."

"There is a job for you at the club," Adam said, "Cabana is quitting soon because of his involvement with Trish you can get a bar tending gig if you want it."

"I don't think I'm strong enough to work around all that booze," Celeste said.

"You don't even drink love," Itchy said, "your passion was cocaine you lived on cocaine and Red Bull whenever you had exams."

Celeste rolled her eyes, "Itchy."

"Why don't you want to work at the club?"

"I just don't," Celeste said.

"Are you angry at me?" Adam asked.

"You think?" Celeste said, "you ignore me for four years throwing cash at me occasionally. Sending me random texts mostly Punk centric texts. You never did get over him leaving did you?"

"Shut up," Adam said.

"I'm gonna go out for a smoke do you wanna join me my Celestial Heavens?"

"I'll come with," Celeste said.

"I'm gonna go with them," Colby said, "it's clear you two need to talk, you can't move on with Jon until you do."

Punk sighed as Colby smiled at him and shut the glass door leaving him in the little square room with Adam.

"Punk, I…" Adam began.

"I am not in the mood for this," Punk said, "but apparently everyone thinks we need to have a little sit down."

To prove his point he sat in the chair opposite Adam and crossed his legs feeling the man's eyes crawl up the length of his body. He was thankful he'd dressed in a pair of tight jeans and band tee shirt that showed off his toned physique but not too much.

"I wonder, why weren't you this attentive to me and my needs when we were together," Punk said, "deciding this week you were going to play the love sick schoolboy once you saw I had another lover."

"They say you never miss your water till your well is dry," Adam said.

"That well's been dry for a long time," Punk said.

"I've been kicking myself for not trying harder," Adam said, "I shouldn't have let you go with Amy."

"You're a good man," Punk smirked, "nobody _lets _me do anything you know that. We never opened up, you never pressed for any personal details about me, and I never asked you anything either."

"Would you have let me in?" Adam said, "when I met you, you were crying into your Pepsi at a dive bar. You wouldn't talk about who hurt you. You wouldn't talk about those scars on you wrists and ankles, you let me hold you let me touch you. You didn't mind when you found out I had a wife you opened your heart to her too. I've always loved you for that."

"And things were good for a while, you both showed me that relationships didn't have to hurt," Punk said, "Even our split was good. And I thank you for that."

"It was good for you," Adam said, "I've ached to be with you since the last time I was inside you. I love you I need you."

"You don't know me Adam!" Punk shouted, "You know the me that I _became_ when I met you. You didn't want to know the real me."

"I'm in love with every part of you," Adam said, "please just hear me out."

"You don't know me!" Punk shouted again before he realized that the poor house mother must really be enjoying this, "you once told me that you'd give me anything I want. I want something now, I want you to let this go. I want you to move on. I have."

"Have you? With your cop boyfriend? He's not your type," Adam said with a pout.

"You don't know what my type is," Punk said, "I don't want to fight, we didn't even fight when we were together."

"I know that's why we're so good together," Adam said.

"There was no spark," Punk said, "it was too easy, too comfortable, you didn't challenge me. You didn't push me to open up. You didn't even fight for me when I left."

"That was because I knew I'd have you back," Adam said.

"You _hoped _you'd get me back," Punk said, "we're not going to do this. You're a good man I don't want to hurt you."

"I can't help it if I'm still in love with you," Adam pointed out.

"I can't help it if I _loved_ you but I was never _in _love with you," Punk told him, "not the way I'm _in_ love with him."

"I can accept that I guess," Adam said.

"Thank you," Punk said.

"It doesn't mean I can't win your heart," Adam said.

Punk sighed, the man was being delusional. He wondered sometimes if Adam even listened when he talked.

"Look I've got to go," Punk said, "Colby's dad is probably there talking to Joe and Jon's probably feeling like a third wheel. Things go sideways when he gets bored."

"You said you wanted me to fight for you," Adam said, "now I am."

"I wanted you to fight for me a year ago!" Punk shouted standing up, he was legitimately pissed, "It's too late! I have someone else, someone I'm in love with! Can't you see that or is your view so myopic that you can't see past yourself and what you want and need?"

"Punk," Adam said surprised at his outburst.

"You're going to stop this stupid shit!" Punk said, "you're going to back off and leave me be. I have no interest in getting pulled back into this with you."

"We were good together," Adam said.

"Good but not great," Punk said, "Jon and I are great together."

"We were great together once," Adam said.

Punk started out of the room, he didn't want to twist the night but Adam was gonna make him. He grabbed Punk's wrist.

"Do you really want to know the truth?" Punk whispered super upset, "You were condescending whenever we went out around your colleagues just because I don't have rich parents or the educational credentials that you have, I was able to let that go because that's how they treated me too and I knew you were playing a part. And then to top it off you were boring in bed. Amy was better than you and her cock wasn't even real. Jon is capable of treating me the way I should be treated around everyone and he knows just how to touch me. We have more chemistry than I've ever had with anyone else."

Adam's grip around his wrist went limp and Punk was gone. He found Colby, Itchy and Celeste standing leaned on the fence Itchy with a cigarette between his lips.

"We're going," Punk said stalking out to his car Colby followed hopping over the shrubs.

"What about Adam things were about to get heavy in there," Colby said climbing into the passenger seat just as Punk was cranking up.

"I think I just wrote the last chapter of that little saga," Punk said reverse and not caring that he nearly sideswiped Adam's Bentley.


	18. Chapter Fifteen

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

Jon had been held against his will at the hospital while they ran tests and treated him like an invalid even though he was _fine_. The bright spot in all the coddling was Punk he was the one person Jon enjoyed coddling from and Punk made sure to walk a fine line between coddling and letting Jon look after himself. He'd come to see Jon daily armed with movies and popcorn, he'd brought Jon clothes so he wouldn't have to walk around in that backless hospital gown. Jon was quite annoyed, Joe had gotten _shot _and had been released _already _it had been two and a half weeks and here he was still in the hospital. He counted his blessings because he could move freely about if he used the wheel chair hospital policy, though he could walk just as well as he did before he walked on to the docks that day.

Once Celeste had gotten settled at her sober house, Trish opened the club again and it was business as usual, Punk stayed until visiting hours ended at seven and then went home to grab a little sleep, Jon gave him a wake up call at ten fifteen so he could make it to work on time. It wasn't the same as lying in the same bed and waking Punk for work or sleeping in with him in the mornings.

Jon was going crazy, he'd seen no action since that first night. He hadn't said the "m" word to Punk again though it was on his mind more than ever. Once the residual effects of his near death experience had worn off he realized that the question was asked in earnest. But how was Punk to take him seriously, he had to do some wooing, he needed to pull out the big guns make a grand romantic gesture, like the guys do in the movies. He also had to purchase a ring.

He was half listening to what Dr. El was saying, Punk was however listening attentively though and asking questions while Jon was plotting his escape.

"All the labs we've run are normal," Dr. El was explaining, "you've got full control of your motor functions. We believe that the poison has had no ill effects."

"So I am I finally going to be able to get the hell out of here?" Jon caught the last bit.

"Your blood pressure is still elevated," Dr. El said, "we're looking at letting you go Friday."

"What the fuck is wrong with Wednesday?"

"She was clearly a sociopath," Punk said, "didn't you see the first movie?"

"You're fucking funny," Jon said.

"They're just gonna keep you a little while longer and make sure everything is copacetic," Punk put his hand over Jon's.

"How about we compromise," Dr. El said, "you relax tomorrow and we'll see if that blood pressure goes down and I'll have you out by noon on Thursday."

Alright," Punk said, "if we get his pressure down I can take him home?"

"Yes," she said.

"What about sex?" Punk asked, "I mean are there any restrictions?"

"Nothing risky for sure," Dr. El said, "Nothing with electronic stimulation."

"Not really into cattle prods," Jon pointed out, "and we don't need vibrators."

"I was talking about shock collars," Dr. El smirked.

"I rarely misbehave," Punk winked at her before he licked his lips the flash of silver peeking out when he did.

Jon saw that little flash of sliver. Punk was taunting him, he hadn't worn his tongue ring or lip ring since they met but he'd take to wearing both during Jon's stay in the hospital.

"Well, on that note," Dr. El said, "I'm going to go finish my rounds and get out of here. Be good!"

"You've been teasing me all week," Jon said, "the kinky face piercings the way you're always licking your lips."

"I left my chap stick at home," Punk feigned innocence, "and visiting hours are almost over so kiss me good night, and try to be good don't get up and wonder around or freak out about what's in the papers."

"They spelled my damn name wrong!" Jon snapped, "there are four fucking letters in my last name and they manage to fuck it up."

Punk smiled at him and leaned closer cupping Jon's cheek, "Calm down, don't think about that stupid shit. Think about coming home with me on Thursday. Think about how much I've missed being alone with you in a place without glass doors and windows."

"We're staying in bed for days," Jon said.

"I'll ask Trish for Friday off," Punk kissed his cheek.

"I'd rather you make it Saturday, because you're off Sundays anyway, and I'd like to take you on a date," Jon said, "it's hard to woo someone from a hospital bed. We need some serious romance."

"You gonna hold a boom box up outside my window?"

"Maybe," Jon said, "I don't need to take dating tips from Cusack."

"Come on I liked that one," Punk said.

"As much as I hate for you to go but you need to get some sleep before you have to perform tonight," Jon told him.

Punk kissed his cheek, "I'm gonna grab a little sleep. Don't forget to call me and wake me up."

"Wish I could wake you up the right way," Jon said watching Punk walk away, his eyes glued to how those tight jeans showed off his body quite nicely, making Jon decide he was going to be a model citizen until Thursday afternoon so he can get out and take full advantage of that gorgeous body.

"Me too, waking up with you is a beautiful thing," Punk said before he ventured out the door.

"You'd better dream about me," Jon said.

"I always do," Punk said, "it's been too long…since we've made love."

"We could be making love by Thursday afternoon," Jon said.

"Only if you can manage to behave yourself until then," Punk said.

"For a chance to be with you again," Jon said, "I'd do anything."

Punk ventured back into the room, "I love you."

Jon stood and pulled him into a kiss. Cupping Punk's cheek, stroking is thumb against the man's chin. Punk's kisses were different, Jon imagined everything would be different with the lip ring and tongue ring. Jon pulled off and stroked the lip ring.

"Why'd you take these out?"

Punk shrugged and melted into the embrace, "Some times I wanna be someone different, Raven always used to say they were slutty."

"They're sexy," Jon said, "nothing about you is slutty. I had to work fucking hard to get to know you and even harder to get into your pants. Raven is an asshole."

"It's hard for me to let go of the things he's said," Punk said.

"Damn, are you in one of your moods?" Jon asked trying to remember what a drunken Cabana had advised him about when he'd first gone out with Punk.

Punk gnawed at his lip ring.

Then he raised his eyes back up at Jon, "I just know it's hard for people to see me as more than just a dancer. My sexuality is usually front and center. On a good day I'm a nymphomaniac, on a bad day I'm a tease, other days I'm a prude. I just can't win."

"I love you no matter what day it is," Jon kissed him again, "go home get some sleep. I'll call you and wake you up for work."

"You're so sweet," Punk kissed him again softly, "I'll be here around ten in the morning."

He gave him a soft smile and wave at the door then he was gone. Leaving Jon with his own thoughts. Most of them of Punk. He wondered what it was that made Punk so insecure it wasn't just Raven who was miles away in the rearview. He knew it was the same issues that made Punk balk on the impromptu idea of marriage.

Jon got back in bed, on top of the hideous hospital blanket still dressed in jeans and an old tee shirt he crossed his legs at the ankles he'd fished his phone out of his pocket before he lay down. He did a web search for jewelers he'd find Punk the perfect ring, a token of his affection. That would be pretty hard to say no to.

* * *

><p>The buzz under his pillow, jolted Punk awake before he heard the song playing he was having a good dream too good but not the real thing. He fumbled for the phone noting the time and that the real thing was calling. The real reason he had an aching hard on under the sheet.<p>

"Hey baby, sorry to wake you," Jon said, "but that's kind of the point of the call."

"Hey," Punk mumbled, "thank you."

"I'll let you get ready," Jon whispered.

Punk yawned, "I don't wanna move yet. Talk to me. Tell me something good."

"Pressures down since the last time they took it," Jon said, "Maybe Thursday night I'll be there with you."

"What would we be doing?" Punk whispered.

"Whatever you want baby," Jon said, "I know you've got things on your mind."

"Devious things," Punk told him reveling in the feelings from his dream, two and a half weeks was too damn long in his opinion now that he'd gotten a taste of the things that Jon was capable of he just wanted more.

"I'm intrigued," Jon said, "you gonna tell me?"

"I was thinking about me on top of you," Punk whispered, "kissing your neck, getting you revved up but still making you take it easy."

"How can I take it easy with a pretty little thing like you on top of me?" Jon asked.

"I'd do all the work," Punk said.

"Mmmm…you know how long that'll last you'll get all cute and breathless and moany," Jon whispered his voice low and full of lust the way Punk liked hearing it in bed, "and then I'd be practically forced to give it to you."

"What about me climbing on top and taking what I want?" Punk whispered breathlessly finally giving into the urge to stroke his hard cock, "you could watch me get myself ready for you then I'd let myself sink down on you. I'll probably have something with a good beat playing and I'd move my hips in time with the beat."

"You do realize that this was supposed to be a simple wake up call and now I'm locked in the bathroom with my jeans around my ankles and my dick in my hands," Jon breathed on the other end of the line.

"Mmm…" Punk moaned, "I'm lying in bed with my dick in my hands so what?"

"I bet you look good like that," Jon said, "I feel like a perv."

"Don't feel that way," Punk said, "I love you and I miss you and if this is how we've got to be together until we can be together fuck it, we'll be together like this."

"Have you got lube with you?" Jon asked.

"In my pillowcase," Punk breathed.

"Been busy while we were apart?"

"You got me used to getting it on the regular," Punk sighed drizzling lube into his palm he coated his cock in a generous amount, "then you decide to cut me off cold turkey."

"It's not my fault this stupid hospital decided that they were gonna keep me here for weeks," Jon said, "use more lube if you're going to finger yourself."

"How do you know how much lube I've got left in my hand?" Punk asked.

"You've probably just smeared a bunch of lube onto that pretty cock," Jon said, "and you're thinking that you'll use the rest to open up that little hungry hole."

Punk held the phone with his left hand and defiantly circled his hole with the remaining lube.

"More lube baby," Jon said, "I don't want you sore when I get out on Thursday because I'm gonna work that little hole over."

"Aw…it's enough," Punk said letting another finger join the first, "we've only got a few minutes supposed to be in the shower right now."

"More lube one finger instead of two," Jon said.

"Can you see me?" Punk asked, "is there some hidden camera in my bedroom?"

"No baby I just know you," Jon said, "go slowly."

"I wanna go fast," Punk breathed out.

"I need you to use more lube and put me on speaker," Jon said, "fuck yourself slowly."

Punk did as he was told grudgingly put more lube on his fingers, he went slowly.

"That's it… beautiful, slow," Jon whispered.

"You're not going to go slow when we…finally?" Punk asked.

"I'll try but you make it desperately hard for me not to rush," Jon said.

"I wanna go fast," Punk told him.

"We'll do it any way you want to," Jon said.

"Any way I want it?" Punk asked.

"I mean everything I say to you," Jon said, "even the liberal use of an m word."

"Jon!" Punk whisper shouted trying to ignore how turned on he was at the word that terrified him Jon wanted to marry him but turned on just the same.

"I know you probably don't think I'm serious," Jon said, "but I've got something to prove."

"I thought I told you that I didn't want to talk about the m word," Punk said.

"Why has not even saying it got your cock leaking?" Jon asked.

"You've got to have a hidden camera here," Punk whispered.

"I wish I did," Jon said, "I'd have to watch the feed on my iPad which is supposed to be for work related shit, but it's seen more than it's share of porn back in the day."

"Maybe I'd have to make a little video for you," Punk said.

"I'd like that but I wanna have the real thing whenever I want it," Jon said, "I want everyone to know you're mine and I get it whenever I want."

"You think the m word is gonna make that happen?"

"You sound like the perfect mix of sarcastic and turned on," Jon said.

Punk bucked into his fist, "Can't we just drop it and do it without the labels?"

"You close baby," Jon asked.

"Yes," Punk whimpered.

"You're getting all breathless and moany," Jon said, "I bet you look hot spread out on those white sheets, that black hair those green eyes the tattoos. You're so beautiful baby, I love you."

Hearing those words Punk was done a couple pushes of his fingers inside himself he was spent his release oozing over his fist he was crying Jon's name as he went over the edge.

"Did that feel good baby?" Jon asked after a few minutes his own breathing ragged.

"You know it did," Punk whispered.

"Forever can feel like this," Jon told him.

"Forever sounds nice," Punk said, "I've never been anyone's forever."

"Go shower baby you don't want to be late," Jon told him.

* * *

><p>Dr. El took the stethoscope down, "Your blood pressure is a lot better, Jon."<p>

"Been relaxing a little bit," Jon sighed shifting a bit.

"We're looking at maybe springing you tonight rather than tomorrow," she said, "I'm going to get started with the paperwork."

"Alright!" Jon said leaning back on the bed.

Punk walked in right after Layla let herself out. Jon hopped up on his feet and pulled Punk into his arms.

"You look happy," Punk said pulling away.

"I might be getting out tonight as soon as she gets the paperwork done," Jon said, "I've been turning in decent pressures for the past two days so she decided to let me go a day early."

"I'm off tonight too," Punk said, "we could maybe do something, anything you want."

"Lemme take you to see one of those foreign films they play at the old theater in town," Jon said.

"Those always make me cry," Punk told him.

"I always hold you after," Jon said, "I'll buy you some of those expensive as fuck chocolates to drown your sorrows in and I'll even get you flowers, the yellow ones you like."

"Sunflowers," Punk smiled.

"We'll go out on the town fancy dinner and everything," Jon said.

"What are you planning?" Punk pulled a face.

"I'm out to prove something to a certain cynical tattooed boyfriend of mine," Jon said.

"I hope I'm you're only boyfriend," Punk smiled.

"The only one I want," Jon said, "I want you forever, which is why I've got to prove myself."

"Why can't we just say forever and not have a big production," Punk said, "I'm not worth all that."

"That's exactly my point," Jon said, "I'm going to prove that you're worth being loved that way, worth being put first, worth being the husband, my husband."

Punk made a soft gasp and he put those expressive green eyes on Jon, "I'm not …at least not a front and center contender. I'm a nice way to spend a summer. But I'm not cut out for marriage."

"The way we fit together it can't be a coincidence," Jon told him, "it's gotta be so much more than that."

"I should go," Punk said, "I've got to get groceries, I need to change the sheets and…"

"Don't run from me," Jon curled his arms around Punk's waist.

"Not running…" Punk said finally meeting Jon's eyes, "need space."

"I would have thought two weeks would be enough space," Jon said.

"Not physical space," Punk said, "emotional space, I want you to let go of this marriage thing."

"Why does it scare you so much baby?" Jon asked.

"I don't know," Punk whispered.

Jon could tell he was close to tears so he pulled him close, he'd made the decision to drop it for right now, "I love you. I just wanted everyone to know that you're mine. That's it."

"I am you know," Punk said softly, "I'm yours. You don't need to sound a trumpet."

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you were ashamed of me baby," Jon whispered into Punk's hair.

"It should definitely be the other way around," Punk mumbled into Jon's neck.

"I'm gonna show you off every chance I get," Jon said, "so proud you're with me."

Punk pulled away and found Jon's lips kissing him passionately again before pulling away, "If you're coming home with me tonight I've got errands to run, groceries, sheets to change cleaning to do."

"I've gotta make plans for our fancy evening," Jon said.

"I'm looking forward to it," Punk told him.

"One more kiss," Jon said bringing their lips together once more.

Jon broke the kiss and gave Punk a firm pat on the ass before breaking the embrace and Punk gave a pitiful whimper.

"Call me when they cut you loose," Punk said after he'd composed himself.

"I will indeed," Jon said.

* * *

><p>Punk sighed and lay his head on Jon's shoulder. The night had been perfect, he'd fussed over Jon the whole night worried about his health but Jon proved he was more than up to it. Yellow sunflowers. Fancy dinner a foreign film neither of them understood without the subtitles, even a car with a driver. Even though that driver was Cabana and he had a woman riding shot gun.<p>

The days before had been good too, Jon had been released on Wednesday. He'd been a good sport and stayed put Thursday but Friday he'd snuck out while Punk was asleep, he didn't question this because Colby's sisters and his mother came by with breakfast to say their goodbyes, and one of them let it slip that Jon had gone training with Joe, his twin cousins and Colby had tagged along just in case someone needed to call 911. He'd really taken a liking to the girls, it made him miss his own sisters, the girls who'd took him in and supported him back home in Chicago because his home life wasn't the greatest. He still kept in contact with them but going back wasn't an option.

"I loved every part of tonight," Punk whispered his hand tracing patterns on Jon's chest shaking off the pangs of missing his family.

"Me too," Jon said, "once Morgan Freeman and Miss Daisy get us home I'm gonna show you an even better time."

"So I'm a bad guy for obeying the traffic laws?" Cabana asked.

"Yes," Jon said as Punk started kissing his neck.

"Forget about them," Punk mumbled against his skin, "hopefully he'll take Miss Daisy home and stay there with her all night otherwise he'll be scarred for life."

"Please," Cabana scoffed, "I've read erotica dirtier than what you two allegedly get up to."

"Allegedly," Jon laughed.

"We've been apart for two weeks, trust me you don't wanna watch this," Punk said.

"Might be hot," Trish laughed, "heaven knows I've heard you get up to all sorts of things with Adam and Amy. You're pretty damned noisy."

"Just drop us at the curb," Punk said, feeling like a kid who'd been driven on his first date by his parents.

"Try and make it in the house before you take your clothes off," Cabana said, "I've made that mistake before."

"My neighbors called the cops," Trish laughed, "they thought some deep voiced pale assed man was trying to rape me."

"I don't want to hear about your heterosexual sex," Jon said.

"Let's go inside and have our own sex," Punk pulled him out the car.

"Where's my tip?" Cabana hollered.

"Don't shit where you eat," Jon said, "that's your tip."

"I'll give you a tip," Trish told him.

Punk shook his head, "Aside from the awkward few minutes in the car, you put together a damn good date."

"That's not all," Jon smirked as Punk unlocked the front door.

"What's with the creepy pod person smile?" Punk asked once the door was opened.

Jon promptly picked him up and threw him over his shoulder. Taking him upstairs after shutting and locking the door, "We've got lost time to make up for."

"I like the sound of that," Punk said, "but aren't you supposed to be taking it easy? Carrying my fat ass upstairs in the exact opposite of that."

"I told you you're overdue for some romance, now lemme give it to you," Jon said opening the door to Punk's bedroom and depositing him gently on the bed.

Once he'd managed to get all the hair out of his face he noticed the candles all around the room, and felt the softness of the sheets under him and spotted his favorite candies unwrapped and on a pretty silver platter Pepsi on ice.

"Damn, you managed to class up the joint," Punk said, "satin sheets, candy, and even Pepsi on ice and the fancy glasses."

"Well only the best for my baby, I didn't think you'd be into Dom Perringone," Jon said.

"Nope that's not my style," Punk said, "I see you brought your hand cuffs out for this one."

"Just want it to be memorable," Jon said.

"It's with you isn't it? I think it'll be pretty memorable," Punk said.

He sat up and slid his shirt over his head, Jon's full attention was on the skin he'd revealed then he unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans working them down his hips he kicked off his shoes then he slid his pants completely off.

Leaving him in nothing but his socks.

"No underwear?" Jon raise an eyebrow.

"I was feeling adventurous," Punk shrugged, "and I couldn't decide."

"Between the super tight boxer briefs or the little black thong?" Jon said unbuttoning his shirt and sliding it off, "Good looks both of them but I prefer this better."

Jon was on him quickly still half dressed boyfriend bringing their mouths together, Punk let him control the kiss using the distraction to roll his boyfriend over.

Jon broke the kiss to gasp at him in shock, Punk unbuttoned and unzipped Jon's jeans, "I wasn't the only one who decided to go commando, makes this a little easier."

Punk revealed the lube he'd hidden in his palm after he'd freed Jon's cock, he coated the stiffening length stroking it while he looked into his lover's eyes. Once he was satisfied with how well he'd slicked the length he straddled the man's hips and sank down on the length. He was unprepared but he needed this, to remind himself that Jon was still here with him.

"Baby," Jon panted, "we should stop…"

"Like hell I'm stopping, I wanna feel you," Punk said, "I need this."

"Take what you need baby," Jon instructed.

They'd made love a variety of ways since Jon had gotten out of the hospital, but not like this. Jon always made sure Punk prepared himself. Punk directed Jon's hands to his hips letting the man know that he wanted him to guide him.

Jon did just that directing his pace, there was little said, lots of eye contact steady dead on strokes hitting Punk's prostate, he was having a hard time keeping the slow pace that Jon had set.

"You feel so good," Jon told him.

"You do too," Punk met his lips in a kiss.

Jon finally let Punk speed up, finally taking a hold of his leaking cock, Punk was riding him in earnest, his nerve endings on fire. Honestly there was nothing like this feeling. Nothing like having Jon inside him, nothing like these deep slow thrusts. Punk came first collapsing on Jon in a trembling heap. He barely noticed being flipped on his back until he found his legs pulled all the way up and Jon sliding back inside him.

"You don't have to stop just because I finished," Punk panted.

"Oh baby, I'm just getting started," Jon started to pump his hips, "I'm pretty sure I can get you off again,"

"You damn well better," Punk said.

Jon pulled all the way out and slammed back in again hitting Punk's prostate again bringing to life his barely softened cock all Punk could do was moan.

"Look at me baby," Jon instructed, Punk struggled to meet the command, "I love you."

"I love you too," Punk moaned wrapping his arms around his lover and pulling him closer so close his stomach rubbed Punk's hard cock making him tremble again.

Jon's hard fast thrusts were all hitting his prostate head on and the friction was bringing him closer and closer to another orgasm but he wanted Jon to get off before he did. He squeezed his muscles around his lover and nipped and kissed his neck and kissed and sucked on his ear.

"Baby you're so hot I can't…"

"I know, just come with me," Punk whispered.

Jon took Punk's length in hand, it only took a few strokes before Punk pulsed in his hand and he felt Jon's warm release inside him.

They lay side by side panting for a long time.

"That can't feel like that if we weren't meant to have something more," Jon whispered against Punk's hair.

"You're not seriously bringing this up again?" Punk rolled on his side so he could look at Jon.

"I'm serious Punk," Jon said.

"I just want things to be like this," Punk said.

Jon sighed, "Why are you so scared baby?"

"The only thing I'm afraid of is loosing you," Punk told him honestly finding it had to breathe, "I'm afraid that if you say what you've been trying to say and I let myself…give you the answer you want you're going to find out that I'm not what you thought I was. I'm damaged goods at best, and I'd hate for us to do the "m" word and you find that out."

"You're not damaged goods baby," Jon said, "I just want to line up all those fucks who hurt you and lied to you and told you weren't good enough. I'm afraid of loosing you baby, it seems like the harder I try to hold on to you the more you pull away. I just…I want everyone to know you're mine, not for possessiveness sake, just so they can know that someone as wonderful as you loves someone like me."

"I love you," Punk whispered.

"I love you too, baby," Jon said pulling Punk close, "how about we enjoy some of your presents, I've got these expensive as fuck chocolates here and six pack of Pepsi what'd ya say we enjoy some treats?"

* * *

><p>Jon looked at the little silver band in the velvet box, everything in him was telling him it was the right thing to do although Punk had nearly hyperventilated the last time they talked the "m" word. Jon knew he hadn't known Punk very long but things just felt so right between them. He knew that the "m" word was an inevitability between them there was no need to wait an allotted amount of time, who knew how much of it either of them had.<p>

Jon was having his first day back at work editing reports he'd been stymied by desk duty. Which was fine, Punk was only not stopping by every hour because he had Foley's assurance that the only reason he'd be let out of the prescient would be to go for coffee. It would be the day that Rotunda and another Fed were going to do his debrief, he'd submitted a written report now he had to do the oral debrief.

Foley came around to Jon's desk, "Rotunda and his partner are here. You can use my office."

Jon made his way back to Foley's office, Rotunda was there awkwardly wearing a suit and a Foley's chair was seemingly spinning of it's own accord.

"Jon, it's nice to see you again, outside of hospital room," Rotunda smiled gentility, and the chair spun toward Jon, "I'd like you to meet my partner agent Mendez."

A small dark haired woman was sitting in it. She had flowing black hair and tanned skin, brown eyes that sparkled with mischief and a smirk to match dressed in a black pantsuit. She was so familiar, it was the mermaid from the docks.

"Mr. Good," she smiled, "I'm glad to see you're well. Much better than when I saw you last. Did you reunite with your Punk you were babbling about?"

"I did," Jon said, "thank you for fishing my ass out of the bay. I was beginning to think I'd imagined you, you're pretty strong for a-"

"-girl?" she questioned.

"I was gonna say mermaid," Jon said.

She laughed a snorting thing that didn't fit her at all.

Jon blushed.

"This oral debrief is really a formality," she said, "your supervisor wanted discretion in us asking you to come aboard. We think you're exactly the kind of guy we need for missions just like this."

"You're offering me a job?" Jon sputtered.

"If you can survive your training," she said.

"He'll survive it all right," Rotunda said, "I'd put money on it."

"You'd put money on anything," Mendez said dryly, "It won't be easy, Quantico only takes about 200 and something trainees a year. It'll be rigorous, and hopefully you'll be trained by some hard ass who is going to make sure you can survive in the field."

"He's proven himself over and over Mendez," Rotunda said, "They said the dose of poison he was given was nearly lethal he still managed to get to his feet and sink a shot two inches below the heart of Carlito Colon."

"That's pretty impressive," Mendez shrugged not looking impressed but her vocal inflection gave way to her being impressed, "you sure you'd be up for training, are you okay you've survived an ordeal."

"I'd be okay," Jon said thrilled that they wanted him to come train, he'd never fathomed anything beyond being a Cincinnati beat cop he thought he had it good in San Francisco as detective then he worried about what Punk would think of the gig with the Bureau he could never tell him he was an agent or going for training.

He couldn't have Punk and this life. At least not the way he wanted to have Punk, he'd have to lie and go out and have Punk worry and not know a damn thing about what kind of dangerous stuff he was getting into.

"You'll probably have to run it by your boyfriend," Mendez said leaning back in the chair.

"I bet you're the type of woman with no attachments," Jon said.

"Don't look at me with pity," she spat, "I've never been compromised."

"I'll bet it's been awhile since you've gotten laid," Jon smirked.

"I can get laid whenever I want," she told him with a haughty smirk.

"Sure," Jon said Rotunda's laugh egging him on.

"About the business of our offer," Mendez bristled, if Jon took this job he'd have a good time riling this one up.

"May I take a few days and sleep on your offer?" Jon asked.

"Classes start the second week of August," Rotunda said, "Orientation starts the second day of August I'm going to need your answer soon."

Jon nodded. He had a lot to think about, he knew without a doubt that he was going to ask Punk the question the man had been avoiding, and the answer he got would be the deciding factor in whether he'd go to Quantico.


	19. Chapter Sixteen

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

"I don't really want to go out tonight," Punk whispered, "can't we stay in bed?"

"It's Colby and Joe's engagement party," Jon said, "we should go celebrate them or does your marriage phobia even stop you from going to engagement parties?"

"Funny," Punk said walking in from the bathroom wearing a short slik robe, his hair still wet from the shower.

"I'm good for a laugh," Jon shrugged still lying sweaty prone and naked on the bed.

"For someone who wants to go out you're making no moves to do so," Punk told him.

"You know if I would have gone into that shower with you we'd never leave home," Jon pointed out, "we'd end up fucking again and you know it."

"Since when do you turn down sex?"

"Since I promised Joe that we would show up early, and help set up," Jon said.

"Early?" Punk said, "my hair won't even be dry in time to make it early and I thought you were going to feed me."

"I am going to feed you baby," Jon said getting out of bed, "I'm going to grab a shower I'll be quick and I when I come out I'll be nearly ready and you're going to be ready."

"I don't even know what I'm going to wear," Punk said.

Jon sighed and walked past his boyfriend who was standing in front of the closet and staring into it.

Jon picked out a pair of tattered white jeans and a nautical striped tank top.

"Navy low tops, no underwear and wear that lotion I like," Jon said simply departing for the shower leaving Punk gaping.

Punk shrugged, and did what he was told, when Jon came back into the room a few minutes later, wearing a pair low slung jeans and a button down.

"You look amazing," Jon told him.

"I'll have to thank my stylist later," Punk said, "you look nice too."

"We've still got a couple of minutes before we go eat you wanna blow dry your hair?" Jon asked.

"I'm good, just wanted something to bitch about," Punk smiled.

Jon was watching him warily almost hesitant, he had been for a few weeks now. Punk wondered if he was thinking about the question he wanted to ask him. Though it terrified him, the idea of marriage, a forever with Jon was without question something he wanted more than anything else. Best case scenario if he said yes to the question Jon had been trying to ask Jon would wake up and realize Punk wasn't worthy of him, worst case scenario things would change between him and he'd find himself trapped in a relationship with a man who had changed.

He locked up the house, as Jon walked out to the car with his guitar in hand. Punk was looking forward to whatever in the hell he was going to play at the party he wouldn't even practice in front of Punk.

"What are you going to play tonight?" Punk asked starting up Rocket.

"Colby wants me to play a Beyonce song, then I'm going to do another song," Jon shrugged.

"I'm curious, you're not even going to give me a hint?"

"I'm sure you can guess the first song," Jon smirked.

"Colby is so predictable," Punk sighed softly, "for some fucking reason he thinks he's Beyonce, and that Joe is Jay-z."

"How come you didn't tell me that both of them hit you up to be with them?"

"Didn't wanna make things awkward with you and Joe and he was really respectful about it, had Colby proposition me, while he watched from a distance giving me the smouldering eyes," Punk explained, " I was never sure if he wanted to eat me or fuck me."

"Most of us want to do both," Jon said, "some days I kinda just wanna cover you in whip cream and just have my way with you."

Punk blushed, "You're the one who wanted to go this stupid party, we could be doing that right now."

"Tempting, I promised Joe though," Jon said smirking at Punk's incredulous look, "you said I should have friends, now we can't go blowing them off."

"Come on," Punk said, "we could make a night of it."

"No thanks," Jon said, "We'll go to this party and have a good time."

"Are you sure we'll have a good time?" Punk asked, "because we were having a good time before you made me go shower."

"We were," Jon said, "we gotta come up for air at some point, we might be having too much sex."

"Too much sex?" Punk sputtered parking a IN and Out Burger the place Jon adored.

"I said we might be," Jon said, "we'll have fun for a few hours tonight then go back home and make love till morning."

"Deal," Punk said, "I'm holding you to that."

"What have I gotten myself into," Jon whispered shaking his head.

* * *

><p>The party was in full swing Colby was preening on the arm of Joe. Celeste had relented and taken the bar tending gig, Trish and Punk watched her carefully. Jon was watching Punk from afar as he talked with Trish's little sister the woman was already looking healthier being off drugs just a few weeks. Jon was confident she was going to bounce back.<p>

Punk was laughing and he was beautiful, he was surrounded by all his friends. Cabana was laughing loudly with a lap full of Trish. Adam was absent for which Jon was thankful for his presence was awkward.

He danced with Punk a little bit, then it was time for his set, Trish was waiting on the stage holding his guitar.

"Are you going to need an intro?" Trish said covering the microphone with her hand.

Jon sat on the bar-stool with his beat up acoustic, "I'm good."

Trish moved the microphone closer and lowered it a bit.

"Hi," Jon said.

He was greeted by cheers, and he smiled, locking eyes with Punk who was standing with Joe and Colby in the front of the crowd.

"Colby asked me to do this one, and I'm hoping he likes what I did to it," Jon said, "'cause Beyonce I'm not."

Jon had worked hard on the song, he'd only heard it a few times and there was so much going on, he looked at the lyrics, and found there was actual substance going on within the song he wanted it to be authentic, nothing flashy, so he took a deep breath and started playing the opening chords. By the time he'd gotten to the end he was enjoying himself, he liked the slower version he was playing a lot better than the original, and the crowd seemed to be into it but he barely noticed them, he was focused on Punk who was swaying slightly to the song his eyes fixed on Jon's.

"Since tonight we're making promises, I'm going to make one of my own," Jon said his eyes on Punk.

Jon looked down at the frets and took a deep breath and started to play the intro to Edwin McCain's I'll Be.

The song ended with whistles and catcalls, from Joe and and Colby.

When he was finished he set down his guitar and walked over to Punk, he fished the velvet box out of his jacket and knelt down.

"I know you don't think you're a forever kind of guy," Jon said, "but since I met you I can't think of a future that doesn't have you in it. It's funny how almost dying puts things into perspective, I don't care if we've only known each other not even two months, I know that I don't want to live without you and I don't want to die without the whole world knowing you're mine. So would you marry me?"

Punk looked near tears he blinked at Jon then looked around at everyone who'd fallen dead silent all around them. Then he looked back at Jon shook his head turned on his heel and started out of the room. Jon stared after him in shock. He'd known better. But he couldn't not do what he did. He was mortified but he couldn't take it back. He wouldn't take it back. He'd gotten an answer, but he needed to know why he'd gotten it. He'd done everything right romantic song public venue so that meant pressure.

Jon burst out of the doors after Punk, "Baby, wait."

"I told you!" Punk turned angrily, "that I didn't want this. That I was just happy being with you. Happy that you love me. I'm not worth all this and you went and bought a ring and did this in front of our friends who now think I'm an asshole, thanks a lot for that by the way. You wanna put a ring on my finger so I can wait for you while you take that job out of state, it's probably dangerous as fuck an FBI gig or something."

"Phil," Jon said simply, "can we be rational for once? I did what I did because I love you and I want to spend my life with you and while we're spending our lives together I want you to wear my ring. I haven't taken the job, even though it's a damn good one, and more than ever expected when I came onto the force, I wasn't going to tell because if things had gone the way I planned, I would have called them Monday and declined the offer. Got a job as a mail man or something if that would have made you happy."

"Dogs hate you," Punk chuckled wiping away his tears, "you'd make a shitty mail man. I'm letting you go, you'd be damn good at your dangerous as fuck FBI job."

"What?"

"Which part did you not get, you'd be a shitty mail man, or the part about me letting you go?" Punk asked.

"I don't want you to let me go," Jon said, "I don't want to be anywhere but with you."

"Well, you've got a new life you've got to start and I've got a lot going on here," Punk said, "we had a good time this summer."

"All we had was a good time?"

"You know I love you but it is what it is," Punk shrugged, "I can't change how I feel. You won't let go of this idea that we should get married and staying here and settling _with_ me, when I know settling _for _me is going to make you resent me. I'd rather you hate me now than hating me later."

"You're afraid that I'm going to get this ring on your finger and turn into some controlling asshole? Someone who resents you for putting him on a different path?"

"Everyone changes," Punk said.

"How'd you get the scars on your ankles?" Jon demanded.

"What?" Punk said.

"Say it I need you to say it,"

"Raven used to chain me to the bathtub, it was one of those claw foot ones with the big metal thingy that held the curtain, I told you," Punk said.

"I'm not him," Jon said, "I'm not any of the assholes that hurt you. I love you baby you're my forever."

"I love hearing you say that," Punk said, "every time you're with me I feel…so much love. I want to believe you but everything I've been shown makes me feel differently."

"I can't believe you're afraid of me," Jon said, "that you don't believe in us enough to commit to me."

Jon was legitimately hurt.

"I'm giving you an out, just take it," Punk reached out for him grabbing the hand that had the little velvet box, "you were meant for so much more than this. I'll be holding you back, you'd never take that job if we stay together, if we were…married."

"You said it," Jon whispered hope filling him once more he pushed the box into Punk's hand, "I'm going to give you the space you said you wanted when I was still the hospital. Think about the question I asked you. I don't want to be without you Punk. I'm going to be at the airport roof access next week, come before eight. If you show I know you've finally trusted me enough to know I'm not like them."

Jon kissed Punk, tasting his tears then he pulled away leaving his lover whimpering.

"Jon!" Punk called after him, "what about the ring?"

"I bought it for you baby, wear it, keep it, or pawn it it's yours, just like my heart," Jon said walking off into the night.

Once he was a safe distance away, he called a cab. His heart still hammering this was not how he planned for it to go. He was trying to keep his heart from shattering into a million pieces, but he still had hope that he'd see Punk soon with the answer he'd been waiting on.


	20. Chapter Seventeen

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

Punk stared at the velvet box on the kitchen table it was haunting him, he didn't dare look inside and see the no doubt beautiful ring Jon had bought for him. He'd ignored countless phone calls from Colby once Jon told Joe what had happened, Cabana had given him some space, at first he thought Jon was in the house with him celebrating the affirmative answer to his proposal and wanted to give them both privacy but when he too heard what happened he stopped by, Punk didn't say anything handed him a packed bag.

Cabana knew when to retreat, and when to push Punk. Him retreating made the silence even more deafening and the hours seem longer. It was the same cycle, not eat, not sleep, go to work and stumble through his routines and repeat. Punk thought he'd gone a month in that state but was surprised it was only Wenesday. He missed Jon so much he could barely breathe. He missed his man he missed his smile and was desperate for Jon's touch.

He surprised himself by going to see Jon at work. He was dressed in his tightest pair of jeans he was wearing Jon's favorite scent, his hair was loose and falling around his face.

He breezed into the precinct like he worked there.

"You looking for Jon?" Captain Foley said walking up to him with a cup of coffee in one hand and doughnut in the another cliché cop thing.

"Yeah," Punk shifted nervously.

"He's down in cold cases in the basement doing a little sorting," Foley said, "sure hate to lose him he's the best detective I got but it's not everyday Quantico comes calling for one of my guys."

Punk nodded, "Would it be okay if I saw him for a minute?"

"Sure," Foley said, "I'll show you."

Walking through a maze of cubicles and uniformed officers a few surly drunks in lock up Punk was shown to a stairwell in the back.

"He's just down there, if you get lost call out to him, he'll hear you," Foley said.

Punk practically sprinted down the steps. He found Jon down a short corridor in a little room with no door with boxes and folders spread out on a little table muttering to himself as he sorted through them.

Punk stood in the doorway and took in the sight of his lover, blue button down across his broad shoulders his slim waist and his tight ass in those worn out jeans. He bit his lip starting to get turned on from just looking at Jon his withdrawals ran pretty damn deep.

Jon turned almost as if he could sense Punk there he looked shocked for a minute then smirked, "What do I owe the pleasure? Have you finally come up with an answer for my question?"

Punk shook his head, "Still thinking about it I was under the impression I had a few more days."

Jon nodded dropping his gaze to the floor, "How have you been? I can tell you haven't been sleeping."

"I didn't come here to talk," Punk strode further into the room and kneeling in front of his lover deftly unbuckling the belt at his waist and flicking open the button his jeans.

"You came to my work for a booty call?"

"It sounds bad when you say it like that," Punk said meeting Jon's eyes again ignoring the heat his cheeks, "but pretty much. You gonna say no?"

"Fuck no," Jon whispered.

Punk tried not to grin and he slid Jon's zipper down his body already responding to what Punk was about to do. He took out his lover's cock.

"I hate your boxers," Punk said.

"They're comfortable," Jon said, "both of us can't go around rocking the stylish little black thong."

"Shut up and lemme blow you," Punk said before he started sucking Jon to full erection.

"Damn," Jon mumbled as he was sucked all the way down.

Punk pulled off a bit making sure the ball of his tongue ring teased the underside of Jon's cock the way he liked and a wet finger pressing behind his balls, making him gasp. He got himself a nice rhythm going loving the sounds that Jon was making drinking in his moans of pleasure and the way he lovingly pushed his hair back. Before he knew it Jon was pushing him away.

"But you were close," Punk frowned.

"That's exactly why I stopped you," Jon told him.

"I wanted to taste you," Punk told him.

"I want to fuck you," Jon told him.

Punk grinned, "I thought you'd never ask. How do you want me?"

"Lean over the desk, I take it you've prepared yourself already?"

"I have," Punk said, "I was thinking about how much I missed you this morning…"

"Really?"

"Yes, I came down here because I wanted to be with you," Punk told him earnestly.

* * *

><p>Jon watched as Punk did what he was told, he still fully clothed and leaning against the desk, he walked over and gave him a slight spank on his ass and reached around to unbutton Punk's jeans he didn't understand the whole aspect of the button fly that his lover liked zippers were much so easier. His lips ghosting over that elegant neck drinking in the moans spilling from Punk's mouth.<p>

But they were pulled down and revealing his lover's full round ass that he loved so much, Punk bent over further exposing the hole that was pouting and slightly pink already greased and stretched from whatever Punk had gotten up to this morning before coming to Jon. So many times he'd wanted to come by or text since he'd walked away that night but he was trying to give Punk space, if Punk wanted him he'd come to him Jon had reasoned and he was right.

It still wasn't an answer to his proposal but it meant that they were heading in the right direction though. Punk wanted him so much that he'd stopped by his work for a booty call. This was risky, public venue and not to mention Jon's job but he wasn't going to turn down sex with Punk. Not even for a million bucks would he turn down that sweet ass.

He slid the jeans down Punk's slender hips revealing a few that round ass to his hungry gaze he thought about how long it had been since he'd been inside Punk. He missed him. He cupped handfuls of the man's ass kneading the firm flesh in his hands the he guided his hands back up to his lover's hips directing him to bend over further and present himself better.

Jon had to check for himself how much Punk had stretched himself he was notorious for not wanting the full prep job, but he found himself able to scissor his fingers and even add a third he stroked over Punk's prostate making the man tremble as his bundle of nerves was caressed.

"I'm ready, fuck me," Punk panted.

Jon entered him with one slow stroke, he couldn't stop the contented sigh that fell from his lips being inside Punk was bar none the best feeling he'd ever experienced.

"Yes," Punk moaned as Jon sheathed himself fully inside.

"Miss me baby?"

"You _know _I did," Punk whispered rocking with Jon's next forceful stroke.

"Why won't you say _yes_?" Jon said, "we could have this everyday, all the time every minute and all those mother fuckers you dance for would be so envious that I'm the one who gets to see you like this, ruined begging for my cock."

"Why do you need any of that?" Punk countered moving his hips at the pace Jon had set, "I'm yours there is no part of me that's not yours."

"I want you so bad that I want to make an announcement and let everyone know that you're mine that they can look but they can't touch," Jon told him pressing his lips to his ear briefly, "I love you so much that I can't stand the thought that you're not wearing my ring that I can't introduce you to people as my husband, don't you know how proud I am to be with you that you let me love you?"

Punk moaned, "Don't say things like that Jon."

"It's fucking true," Jon said speeding up reaching around for Punk's cock that was leaking on the table the conversation seemed to get him hotter, "I forgot you didn't come here to talk. You came here so I can fill you up with my cock because it's hard for you to go days without me inside you. Because you know that no one else can touch you like this."

Punk moaned as Jon swiped his thumb over the head of his cock.

"Let them hear you upstairs, let them know how good I make you feel, how much you love what I do to you," Jon said.

Punk seemed glad to oblige making louder noises when Jon's strokes hit his prostate with purpose rather than just teasing it.

"Harder," Punk moaned.

"Like this," Jon changed his stroke, he was close anyways and he needed Punk to come before he did.

"Yes!" Punk shouted.

Jon stroked him faster Punk moaned louder.

"Jon!" he shouted his release oozing over Jon's fist his hot channel clenching Jon like a vise, he thrust a few more times and came too.

He pulled out and ruffled Punk's hair he was nearly doubled over on the table not having moved since screaming Jon's name.

"Phil, are you okay?"

"I'm good," he whispered, "its just that it doesn't feel like that with anyone else. I know that I can't possibly find anyone that I could love more than I love you. I don't know what you get out of it though I'm a decent fuck, but what else is it about me that you just can't live without?"

"I love everything about you," Jon said, "one day we were going to cook dinner and we were buying stuff at the grocery store and I'd never seen eggplant, and you smiled this gentle smile at me, I remember thinking that if I could just see him smile at me like that everyday, I'll know that I've done something right in my miserable life."

"I love the way you laugh at me when you know I'm being stupidly surly, I love when you say my name like I'm the only man in the world," Jon said, "I love holding your hand just because I can. And that day on the boat, I remember thinking, if could just get back to Punk and hold him I'll be okay, or I should have stayed in bed with Punk. He's gonna be so pissed if I go off and die."

"I will be pissed if you die, I'd probably kill myself just so I can give you the beating you deserve," Punk smiled finally moving around on the table pushing up by his arms.

"Don't say that," Jon said, "as flattered as I am. If anything happened to me I need you to carry on, Cabana would take care of you and so would Joe and Colby the latter would fuck you in ways I don't even wanna think about that would require more lube than I'd ever want to know about."

"Stay still I'm going to clean you up," Jon told him.

"I can barely move," Punk said.

"I fucked you that good?"

"You know you did," Punk told him.

Jon walked out of the small room after fixing his pants into the little bathroom down there, he liked the out of the way bathroom down in the basement he could have some alone time down there without going upstairs to the bustling unisex bathroom on the second floor. He'd inadvertently walked in on Mendez in there while she was scowling at herself in the mirror. She was still hovering around doing something with Colon case files smiling at him like an evil pixie on occasion.

He cleaned Punk up with wet paper towel enough so that he could actually walk to the stationhouse without everyone seeing the physical evidence of what they'd been up to. But he'd no doubt that they'd heard the fucking he'd been given so he would be surprised the catcalls and the looks Punk would receive going out of the building.

"Oh hell, I'm going to have to walk by all of your co-workers and they're going to know what we just did," Punk said.

"They are all going to be so jealous it's not even funny," Jon said pulling up Punk's jeans and giving him a little spank on his ass, "but that's what you get for coming to a man's work and offering up that sweet ass."

Punk turned to face Jon, "I did basically just do that I was in the mood for some rough and dirty."

"I wasn't that rough, but I did treat you like a semen depository," Jon told him.

"You did not," Punk stepped closer giving him a quick kiss.

"We didn't even kiss, and I love kissing you," Jon said.

"We just kissed," Punk said, "and I did kiss you, on the cock. I should probably go."

"And you did that little kinky thing with your finger," Jon said grabbing his wrist, "You can't just do a hit and run on me, I'm going to need more."

"When do you get lunch?" Punk asked, "your apartment is like two minutes away."

"Foley will probably with any luck be so scandalized he'll send me home for the rest of the day," Jon smirked.

"Well, come on we've got to face the audience sooner or later," Punk said as they walked out of the little room and in the direction of the stairs they opened the door letting them into the precinct.

He was generally surprised to see Joe had made it back from lunch he'd come in most of the week and was doing training with some of the newer guys, he was the first person Jon saw wearing a shit eating grin. Someone else at a cubicle started playing an MP3 file of that song from that damn Richard Gere movie where he carries the bitch out of her job. Some people whistled and cheered a few rookies were blushing in a corner off to one side.

Foley appeared next his cheeks tinged pink his long scraggly hair hanging into his eyes.

"Why don't you enjoy the rest of your day, Jon, take a long lunch?" Foley asked, "Show Punk a good time, yeah?"

"Captain, I think he's already shown him a good time," Joe chuckled.

"I didn't know strippers delivered," one cocky rookie Kendrick in the corner dared to speak, "that lap dance had a happy ending, how much you charge cupcake?"

Jon was seconds away from fucking this sniveling shit up, but Punk stepped forward.

"If you have to ask you can't afford it," Punk told him, "a little dick rookie couldn't handle this."

With that he was gone leaving most of the men in the precinct snickering or gawking. Jon smirked then followed after giving the stupid rookie the finger and ran to catch up with Punk when he got outside to the street there was no sign of him.

He looked around a bit more for Punk and couldn't find him he'd even gone to Punk's house and called him, but he got his voicemail. He went to lunch and then tried looking for Punk he went to club and to the sober house and then back to Punk's place there was no sign that he was home his car wasn't around. He wondered if Punk regretted coming to him today. It seems like every step forward with Punk led to two more steps back.

* * *

><p>Days had passed quicker than Punk had thought and it was Saturday and that ache had built back up inside his chest again, running from Jon was a bad idea, he should have stuck around after what happened at the precinct, but he knew he'd end of saying yes. He was a walking zombie he missed Jon he knew he was leaving and felt like he just might blow to pieces if he didn't go to him but instead he was pacing Trish's living room. A glance at the clock showed it was after seven.<p>

"Are we seriously having this conversation right now?" Cabana asked lazily from his perch on Trish's very foral sofa.

Punk glared at his friend, "I'm asking you for advice!"

"You already know the answer to the question," Cabana said, "I don't see why you didn't answer it in the first damn place the way it was expected to be answered."

"I can't," Punk said.

"He's going to leave and you'll regret not saying it," Cabana said, "you know that."

"I don't know that," Punk snapped.

"You've moped around for days, you miserable fuck," Cabana said, "you've been hiding out here creeping out my girlfriend."

"If I'm left on my own I'll go to him and I can't," Punk whispered, "I came to his work just to say hello and we ended up fucking."

"Like you didn't know that was happening you showed up already prepared," Cabana said, "he's got you so strung out you came to his work for a fucking booty call!"

"It wasn't a booty call!" Punk maintained a blush staining his cheeks.

"The whole police squad thinks the strip club delivers now," Cabana said, "Trish got ten calls for you five for Colby and one for Ziggler."

"Maybe we should deliver," Punk snarked.

"It's been two days," Cabana said tiredly, "I can't even fuck my girlfriend because you're right there, cooking but not eating pacing the house not sleeping."

"I'm dealing just fine fucker!" Punk swore.

"You're not," Cabana said, "look we've been at this for hours, for days. Alls I'm saying is take the ring out of the box go meet him tell him how you feel."

"He knows how I feel," Punk said.

"Really?" Cabana asked, "'cause it seems like to me you've been avoiding how you're feeling showing carrying that ring around for days."

"I'm trying to make a decision," Punk said, "it _is_ very pretty."

Cabana groaned, "You know what you want, why don't you go down there and get it. The man is in love with you and you're in love with him. Why is this so fucking hard? Just be together."

He sighed deeply, "He doesn't want me not really."

"Yes, he does," Cabana stood up from his prone position on the couch and went over to Punk who'd stopped pacing and was staring at his friend who'd moved as little as possible all day.

"I guess I'm going to have to give you the you're awesome Punkers pep talk again, aren't I?" Cabana said.

Punk glared at him.

"You are an amazing person you have a wonderful heart, why don't you feel like you're worthy of his love? Worthy to have everyone know he loves you like that?" Cabana asked.

Punk sighed, "I'm just not."

"I'm going to book a flight to Philly and fuck Raven the fuck up," Cabana growled, "You are all those things and more. Just fucking go to Jon tell him you love him."

"I don't know what to say," Punk said.

"Put on the ring and show up there he'll know what that means you don't have to say anything," Cabana told him, "just go it's after seven and with that bullshit parade going on down town you'll never make it in time."

Punk stumbled toward the door got out to Rocket and discovered he had no keys then he proceeded to tear Trish's house apart in search of them when he found them he raced out of the door nearly bowling Celeste over.

The streets were crowded some fucking lame ass festival was going and he couldn't get to the airport by car he parked Rocket and locked him up and then raced the two blocks to the airport knocking over revelers he'd knocked into a small woman and felt badly enough to help her up.

"I'm really sorry Miss, I'm in a hurry are you injured?"

"You should be more careful!" she spit brushing her dark hair out of her face allowing him to see her more clearly.

"April?" he asked, "what are you doing here?"

"Phil! Holy shit, I haven't saw you in forever!" she cried throwing herself into his arms.

"You didn't say you were coming to town," he said.

"I'm here on business," she smiled, "it's boring really, software conferences."

"That's what you get for getting your degree in computers," he shrugged.

"What about you how have you been, you said you've been seeing someone lately, how's it going?"

"Well actually I'm meeting him now and it's pretty urgent, is there any chance I can call you later and we can have coffee and talk?" he asked.

"Sure, sure," she said, "I might have to take some time tonight to handle an asset but I'll be in town until I get an account up to scruff."

"Alright I'll text your or you can come by the club tonight, I do have a shift later," Punk told her.

"Okay," she said hugging him again, "it was good to see you!"

Punk was on his way again weaving through the crush of bodies, he tried to call Jon and left him a voicemail letting him know he was coming he ran into the airport and had a flight attendant direct him to roof access, Jon had the foresight of giving them his name and he flashed his ID was let up to the chopper zone. The elevator was busy and it was after eight so he had no choice but to run up six flights of stairs, he thought he was in pretty good shape before tonight he realized he needed a little more cardio.

He could hear the whir of the helicopter blades as he climbed the last flight of stairs he threw open the door just as the helicopter lifted off the ground the wind whipped his hair around as he watched in shock swaying on his feet.

He was too late, and it was all his fault. He should have said yes at the hospital when the subject was causally broached, he should have said yes the night Jon took him on that big date, he should have said yes the other night at the club or wore the the ring to the booty call.

He let the tears fall watching the assent of the helicopter standing there long after it had gone his body numb, he'd lost the man he loved because of his own stupidity. The ring on his finger felt like a lead weight.

* * *

><p>Saturday rolled around quicker than Jon would have liked. He hadn't seen hide nor hair of Punk not since he'd shown up at the precinct and gave him some amazing head. Jon had made it to chopper access on the roof of the airport earlier than he needed to whichever FBI liaison who was to pilot the chopper hadn't even shown yet he'd told them not to come until ten minutes till eight, and as the minutes ticked on he was less than hopeful Punk would show.<p>

A glance at his beat up watch showed the time was now seven thirty, the liaison breezed in twenty minutes after, Jon had been praying it wouldn't be Mendez, she had a mean streak and was pretty sore that he'd implied she couldn't get laid. It was fun seeing her around the precinct she'd had most of the guys there convinced she was simply working on the computers though Jon himself had never seen the small woman near a single machine, she was going through hard copies.

"I'm going to get her started," the liaison in a crisp black suit said, he was pretty generic nothing distinguishing about him, average height average build blond/brown hair cut in a boring style.

Jon nodded, glancing at his watch, it was seven fifty five. He wanted to call Punk and say something anything, but he'd surrendered his phone to Mendez when he'd spoken to her at the precinct and she'd grimaced when he told her all signs pointed to him getting on the chopper.

Jon stood there still brimming with hope until eight fifteen, before the liaison poked his head out the door, "Whoever you're waiting on isn't going to show, we might as well get going."

Jon sighed and got in the helicopter, as it took off he couldn't bring himself to stare at the grey metal roof access door anymore he looked ahead it hurt too much to look back, life was taking him away way from here and away from Punk and he had to go along with it or be swept away.

It didn't mean he didn't feel terrible, he wanted to beg the man to stop, but Punk's actions were pretty clear, he couldn't keep chasing after him when a future together wasn't something he wanted. Then he wondered if he hadn't pushed him so hard then they'd still be together, but he couldn't have stayed without more of a commitment.

He clenched his fist against his thigh choking on his own quiet sobs, he didn't know how he was going to do this. He was so damn sure he wouldn't be sitting in this helicopter seat right now that by this time he'd have found some airport bathroom stall and be celebrating with Punk. He didn't plan for this outcome, time would help but he was more than sure he'd left behind the best thing to ever happen to him. Though sometimes loving Punk felt a lot like chasing the moon.

So beautiful, so distant, too far away. Jon thought he'd had some part of Punk that he could hold on to but he'd been wrong. He dried his tears as much as he hated leaving behind Punk putting all that emotion into his training, he made himself a vow since Punk wouldn't let him be a good husband he'd be the best field agent in the FBI. He trained his eyes on the glowing moon in the sky his countenance resolute, he wasn't just going to survive without Punk he was going to thrive, he was done chasing the moon**_._**


	21. Overture

**Title**: Chasing the Moon

**Author**: Rebellecherry

**Summary**: A summer love between a Straight Edge stripper and unstable rookie cop burns out as their two lives move in different directions, but their romance is never really forgotten not even five years later. Memories of that hot summer followed them for years.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, the whole concept has probably been done, but it wouldn't leave me alone so here it is.

_Present Day_

Punk was in the little room with April and Jon who he should probably get used to calling AJ and Dean but he couldn't not yet he couldn't get over their affiliation or any of the things that happened today.

"This is going to hurt a lot," April said holding a syringe.

"What is that?" Punk wanted to know what was in the syringe the young woman was holding.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"Not particularly," Jon answered the question looking at the small dark haired woman.

Punk nodded.

"Just be quiet and hold him down," April said this time addressing Jon.

Jon balanced his hands on Punk's hips, and Punk couldn't stop the intake of breath at the feeling of Jon's hands on him it was the only thing he'd ever been addicted to in his whole life. He'd been in a tailspin since Jon had left and he could admit it now if not just to himself. Leaning against the table with Jon at his back reminded him of the last time he'd had Jon inside him, he'd been stupid and selfish he hated himself for how he'd behaved that day.

"Nice job Deano!" she said.

"Don't start that shit already," Jon swore as April pulled Punk's sweats down a bit and plunged the needle in is flesh.

Punk had been preparing himself he tried not to wince, he'd been expecting it, hoping that he'd get some sleep from what was no doubt a sedative. He could use one, he was notorious for not sleeping a sedative would be just what he needed to get himself on track. He was used to functioning on a small amount of sleep but the nightmares plaguing him were worse, every regret every past mistake played over and over in his dreams at night. He welcomed a medicine induced dreamless sleep. Once the injection was over he realized this was no sedative, a heart beat later he felt like his skin was on fire he rocked forward screaming.

"What the hell was that?" Jon wanted to know.

"Dermal pigmentation suppressant. It's a very painful process," April explained, "it feels like your skins melting off."

Jon didn't say anything but he pulled Punk closer as his body shook more. He hurt so much but he was aware of their conversation.

"Have you had this done to you before?" Jon said.

"Yes, but it gets easier," she said, "it's something you'll not have to go through. We'll have to do it once a month. Nothing hurts quite like the first time."

"What was the injection for?" Jon asked still holding Punk tight and Punk let himself be held as he cried the pain finally subsiding.

She didn't answer his question. Her silences were often loaded, another of the little sisters he'd never had, so different from the others, she'd always been the one who needed him she was the youngest the only person he knew who'd been wanted less by their parents than he'd been by his own.

"It's over now," Jon tried to soothe him but Punk wrenched himself away.

"Don't touch me," Punk hissed at him his eyes squeezed shut for a moment before he looked at April full of venom and accusation, "what have you done to me?"

"What had to be done," April told him flatly.

Jon was too busy gaping at him. He wondered why he was staring like that.

Punk looked down at his belly to find the last of the word Edge fading, before looking back at April, "Everything that was me is gone."

He cried in earnest everything that defined him was gone. Cabana most assuredly thought he was dead. He'd sold the house in Frisco holding on to it longer than he should have not willing to give up on the idea of living there, living there with Jon. He'd been the one to let things with them die, he'd dragged his feet and lived in fear for far longer than he should have. Now here he was without his tattoos Vince was in jail, there was a madman after him that he wasn't sure if he wanted to fuck him or kill him and then the madman's crazy pyromaniac loon of a wife, not to mention Vince's vindictive ex-wife all hot on his trail.

"I am so sorry Punk," she said sounding remorseful, "you had so many, and if anyone suspects you might still be alive after the blast they might come for you. With them you had a target on your back without them you might be free."

"Without them I'm lost," he said, "Can I have a minute by myself?"

"Sure, I'll find you something to wear and Jon will get you something to eat, we leave within the hour," April said, "they aren't gone forever, we'll have to do injections every thirty days, until this is over, and when it's done they'll come back like they've never left."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Punk asked softly but was met with a confused frown from April.

"That that was what the shit in the needle was going to do?" Punk asked, "I thought it was drugs."

"I knew you wouldn't have agreed to lose your tattoos but you trusted me enough to let me inject you with drugs?" she asked sounding more hurt than she had right to be.

"There had to be a reason you wouldn't tell me," Punk said, "I didn't think it was anything more than a sedative."

"That makes me feel a little better I guess," she shrugged.

"What about making him feel better?" Jon demanded.

"She did what had to be done Jon," Punk wiped his tears away, "if I want to live I'll have to do this. I have to remember I'm not Punk anymore."

"Punk-" April started.

"I'm not Punk," he told her slipping into an accent that he remembered hearing in a movie, "I'm Phil."

"Wow, that's pretty damn good," April said, "I knew you could do it."

"It's too dramatic," Punk said slipping back into his own accent it didn't fit, "I'm going to need to work on it. You might have given me the motivation I needed to accept my new identity, but I can't forgive you for not telling me you were going to take away my tattoos."

"You wouldn't have let me," she whispered, "don't you want your life back? Don't you want to see Vince? Don't you want to see Brooke again? To hold her?"

Punk touched a hand to his ribcage, where his daughter's name used to be.

"Alright then," she said wiping her own tears, "you might not forgive me, and I'm okay with that but I won't compromise when it comes to keeping you safe."

"Who is Brooke?" Jon asked but his question went ignored.

"I need a dermal suppressor too," April said.

"You don't have any tattoos," Jon said.

"They're very well hidden," she said.

"But I've seen you naked," Jon said.

"Well, aren't you two awfully chummy," Punk said, "do I even wanna know?"

"Don't get all jealous, I was a bait girl once," she smirked.

"A bait girl, like in _To Catch a Predator_?" Punk asked.

"Not really but same theme, pervs and kidnapped teenage girls," April said, "Remember when I came back from that conference with what you said was Harajuku hair."

"Those were just terrible bangs," Punk said.

Jon let a barking laugh probably recalling April with the hairstyle himself.

"There was nothing I could do I had to wait for them to grow out," April said, "it took a while for me to let Celeste see me with my clothes off because of the canings the old man headed the operation gave me for being disrespectful, those pervs like their girls clean without marks save the ones that they put on."

"But the blonde chunks though," Punk complained, "horrible. Who told you that was a good look, worse than the bob you had when you were little."

"Glad we're on good enough terms that you can talk about bad hair cuts I've gotten," April said, "you're the one who cut my hair!"

"You're the one who got gum in it," Punk told her.

"See, I knew you couldn't stay mad at me," she said.

"I'm still pretty pissed at you," Punk said, "I've lost everything, my tats were all I had left. You took them without even talking about it with me, and you think I should be fine a minute later. I know we don't have any but I need a little time."

"You've got it," April said, "We're going to get you food and clean clothes."

Jon nodded and followed April out leaving Punk alone in the room. He was more than thankful to he be finalally left to his own devices he was able to do something he'd hadn't done since the police came for Vince, and before that he hadn't done since the night he'd stood on the airport roof sobbing as the helicopter carrying the love of his life took off. He didn't cry after what happened when he'd dropped Brooke off with Celeste. He didn't cry when hack reporters got ahold of the sex tape Gabe had made without his permission soon after his name was brought up in the McMahon scandal.

It felt good cathartic he might be able to sleep after this, his heart was broken his little girl would be safer now that everyone thought he was dead but he worried what it would do to her in the long term. Hell what would it do to Celeste? April was here with him and her wife was taking care of all three children and alone thinking he was dead.

He'd lived his life by strict moral code and none of that mattered all his abstaining didn't stop him from being selfish and stupid he'd done that all on his own and he'd lost the man he loved because of it. He'd been determined not to make that mistake with Vince the man he'd built a life with, and it'd happened so quickly despite all the outward drama things were easy with Vince, he'd pursued Punk not long after Jon left after a series of failed relationships and sad one night stands Punk really didn't want to let him but Vince was so fucking persistent he'd let him in he'd loved him and they were raising a daughter together when the scandal broke. He was missing so much of Brooke's development but he was thankful that at least one of her biological parents were there to witness it.

April and Celeste were discussing having children at the same time Vince and Punk were considering adoption. Celeste was taking hormones, and trying to persuade April to contact her biological brother but April had been resolute in saying that Punk was her only family. So he gave them some sperm and they agreed that April and Celeste would keep the first baby then two years later they'd try again for Vince and Punk. As it happened Celeste got pregnant right away with twins, they decided that April and Celeste would keep the boy and Punk and Vince would get the girl.

The fraternal twins were raised as individual siblings in different homes at first Punk worried that they'd fuck them up by not dressing them alike and doing embarrassing twin things with them more often.

Through all that he'd never given himself fully to Vince, and he hated himself for it there was this part of him that Jon had access to and no one else. He loved Vince, and he hated the fact that they were apart, and he could admit to himself the way he felt for Jon eclipsed everything he felt for Vince. Seeing him today brought back all of those feelings and reminded him of how stupid and selfish he'd been and how ashamed he felt for making them because he feared being trapped in a relationship where he was a prisoner again. He knew Jon wasn't raven and but some scars never really healed.

It wasn't long before Jon let himself in the little room. Punk's tears had run their course, he was going to do things differently in this new life, he was going to get through this for his baby girl. And he was going to start right now he was going to tell Jon the truth.

Jon returned with some fruit and yogurt, Punk was hungry but he didn't dare to eat.

"I brought you something," Jon said.

"I'm not hungry," he said though the growling of his stomach proved otherwise.

"Really," Jon said.

"I'm not," he said.

"Just eat something today has been hard enough," Jon said.

"How do you know how hard my day has been?"

"You wake up and nearly get blown up, you found the girl you've known half your life isn't who you thought she was," Jon said, "you find out that you're being relocated, we see each other again, and the same girl from before injects you with some suppressant that makes your tats invisible. You probably feel like everything you've known is gone."

"It is gone," Punk said, "I've finally disappeared."

"You didn't disappear," Jon said, "just because your home is gone and your tats aren't there anymore doesn't mean you're not the same person."

"I never liked that house much anyway," Punk smiled, "I liked the place had in Frisco with Cabana. We finally got the pool finished, and then Vince asked me to move to LA with him. I sold it. I need to disappear so I can live."

"I'm so sorry," Jon said feeling the guilt churn in his stomach.

"It's not your fault," Punk said, "you didn't send the goon squad after me."

"I shouldn't have-" Jon started but Punk cut him off.

"-I was there that night, just after you'd gone," Punk revealed, "Cabana convinced me to go and tell you my answer was yes. But you were gone. I always knew. I should have said yes. If I had said yes…so much would be different now."

"You can't just tell me that," Jon paced the room, "not after all the time that has passed. Not after what you said to me at Colby and Joes wedding, not after I came to see you after and found you frolicking with old Daddy Warbucks."

Punk sobbed softly, "I should have said yes. Right when you asked me, though I thought you were just fucking with me at first. I mean really, who would want to-"

The door opened revealing April some jeans and hoodie effectively breaking the moment and ending the conversation, but it was for the best it was in the past, "Got you some clothes."

"Great," Punk toed off his shoes and was getting ready to pull of his sweat pants.

Jon turned giving Punk privacy, that he ddint want he wanted to gauge the response to see if Jon was still interested. Jon wasn't known for being a genetleman he'd never pass up the chance to look at Punk's body. Punk wondered if Jon was seeing someone or if he was just revolted by how Punk had let himself go. He was too thin and pale. Maybe he'd lost all his sex appeal it hadn't been a focal point since Vince got locked up. He took it as both disinterest and the fact that Jon had moved on and though he didn't like it he was going to have to accept it, they'd be spending a lot of time together until this whole thing blew over if it ever blew over and Punk was just going to have to deal with how he felt and that Jon didn't feel the same anymore.


End file.
